


Birds Of A Feather

by GlowingArrowsInTheSky



Series: But the Earth Refused to Die [4]
Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Grouptale, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Gen, Hurt/Comfort, Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Sibling Bonding
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-01-09
Updated: 2017-11-16
Packaged: 2018-09-13 17:01:33
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 22,810
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9133189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GlowingArrowsInTheSky/pseuds/GlowingArrowsInTheSky
Summary: Robin gets one phone call...and another...and another...and another...





	1. One for Sorrow

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A mystery caller tests everyone's patience.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whoa hey!! I'm back with more material for these kids!! As always, everything for this au is purely self-indulgent and really more just about my original characters than Undertale. But if you read this and like it, that's awesome!!

If there was one thing Robin could be depended upon for, it was that they always answered their phone before the first ring had even finished. After going for a time with their own phone calls to Toriel being unanswered, Robin had acquired a deep sensitivity to the anxiety of a line ringing out only to have it cut away to silence. Which was why, when they started deliberately ignoring their ringing phone, their family immediately knew something was wrong.

“Aren’t you gonna answer that?” Alex asked, eyeballing the verdant glow of an incoming call blaring across Robin’s cell phone screen.

“Nope,” Robin replied easily, not even pausing to lift their eyes from the stack of paperwork set in front of them from where they sat at the dining room table.

“Urr...okay…” Alex said carefully, turning back to their homework and trying to remain nonchalant about their older sibling’s sudden shift in attitude. This proved decidedly impossible; half because Alex was concerned for Robin, and half because the foreign number still spanning the phone screen was astronomically more interesting to Alex than the math homework they’d been staring at for the better part of an hour.

Amazingly, they were able to resist pressing the topic further for an entire three minutes before they found the suspense too suffocating to ignore any longer. The original phone call had long since faded to black, but now a new call from the same number was pulsing through and Alex couldn’t ignore the situation for another second.

“Okay, what’s going on with you?” Alex demanded, flicking their eyebrows up as they slammed their notebook shut with a forceful flip.

“Huh?” Robin looked up momentarily to squint at Alex, pen still poised over their paperwork. “Nothing is ‘going on’ with me. Is there something going on with _you_?”

“Why aren’t you answering your phone?” Alex pressed.

“I’m busy,” Robin shrugged, turning their gaze back down the the page they’d been staring at.

“Sure, I believe you,” Alex scoffed and rolled their eyes. Crossing their arms, they leaned back in their chair and fixed Robin with a skeptical glare. “Only that one time you took a call in the middle of a press conference as it was being televised nationally; but yeah, filling out permission slips at home in your pajamas is a much more daunting task.”

“These are not permission slips,” Robin said, gesturing to the stack of papers in front of them.

“Yeah, yeah. Don’t change the subject,” Alex said. “My point is, you are so obviously screening calls from that random number that keeps popping up on your screen. Okay, and you have been for a while now; don’t think we haven’t noticed.”

“We?” Robin raised their eyebrows, chewing on their lower lip as they glanced over to the shut doors that led to the living room where their younger siblings were. Dropping their pen at last, Robin raised their hands to their face and pressed against their eye sockets, heaving a tired sigh. “So you’ve been talking about me behind my back?”

“Yes, we have,” Alex rolled their eyes again. “Have your attorney fax me the lawsuit; but we’re worried about you, Robin. Are you in trouble? Who’s calling you?”

“I don’t know,” Robin shrugged, arms now crossed over their chest.

“Follow up question,” Alex held up a finger, waiting for Robin to make eye contact with them.

Robin sighed as they dragged their gaze up to Alex’s. “What?”

“Why don’t you want anyone to know who’s calling you?”

“I just said I don’t know who’s calling me!” Robin exclaimed, throwing their hands up in the air.

“Oh, so you just decided to ignore this phone number for the hell of it?” Alex asked, punctuating their statement with a gesture to Robin’s phone which was lighting up with yet another mystery call. “Since you answer all of your calls as soon as your finger can hit the ‘pick up’ button, I’m betting you know exactly who’s on the other line.”

Robin let go of a slow breath, pushing air angrily through their nostrils as they glared up at Alex from across the table.

“And here’s the kicker for me,” Alex continued, relaxing their shoulders at Robin’s defeated silence. “If you really don’t want to talk to whoever this mystery caller is, why not just block the number?”

“None of your business,” Robin seethed through clenched teeth, sounding dangerously close to a snake’s hiss. Slamming their palms to the table, Robin pushed up from their seat and turned to leave the room through the kitchen. They made it halfway to their exit before pausing, turning around, and storming back to the table. Lashing a hand out, they snatched their phone from the table and whipped away, orange hair swinging against their back as they left.

As Robin’s footsteps decrescendoed up the stairs, the doors to the living room slid open and five shocked faces poked through the doorway.

“Jeez,” Bell gave a low whistle as they stepped up to Alex’s side and propped their elbow on their sibling’s shoulder, a stunt they were only capable of pulling when Alex was seated. “Tough break, buddy.”

“Like you could have done any better,” Alex grumbled miserably, pouting down at their math homework.

“Don’t make this into a competition of who’s better than whom at prying secrets out of Robin,” Laurel sniffed, absentmindedly picking up Alex’s pencil and correcting the problem they’d been working on. “They’re very protective of their emotions; they’re not going to open up by being interrogated.”

“Then what do we do?” Hop spoke up, kneeling as they rested their chin on Alex’s chair’s armrest.

“Wait?” Laurel suggested.

“Euuuuughhhhhh,” Hop groaned, rolling their eyes back in their head.

“Maybe we need to take a softer approach,” Bell said, eyes flicking to Twain. “And I know the perfect kid for the job.”

“Wh- Me?” Twain croaked out, pressing both of their hands against their chest. “No, no, I can’t.”

“How come?” Bell asked. “You’ve never had a problem talking to Robin before.”

“I know,” Twain said. “That’s why I can’t. What if they get mad that I ask and then they don’t talk to me ever again?”

“Robin wouldn’t do that,” Alex said, reaching out to pat Twain’s shoulder.

“Well, they’re doing it pretty well to whoever keeps calling them,” Bell muttered, receiving a sharp jab to the ribs from Laurel’s elbow as the words left their mouth. “Ouch! Ah jeez, I mean, they wouldn’t do that to _you_ , Twain. But someone else…”

“Just stop talking,” Alex pinched the bridge of their nose and took a deep breath. “What are we going to do though, guys? Okay, for real?”

A tiny hand shot up and waved in the air. All of the other kids turned their attention to Frisk, who stood in the center of the huddle, quiet as a mouse.

“Yeah? You have an idea, Frisk?” Alex nodded. “Let’s hear it. Or, uh, see it.”

Frisk balled their hands into fists, put them on either side of their head, and stuck up an index finger on each hand to imitate horns.

“You think we should get Mom involved?” Alex asked. Frisk nodded in response.

“Do you think that’s okay?” Laurel tugged at their sweater sleeves anxiously. “I-I mean, it kind of seems like a private problem for Robin.”

“Laurel, you said it yourself,” Bell replied. “Robin doesn’t open up to people, y’know. The only person they really trust with their emotions is Mom. I think it’s a good idea.”

“I think Laurel has a point,” Alex said. “But the bottomline is that someone we don’t know is calling our sibling, and we don’t know what they want from Robin. And we’re all kids, there’s only so much we can do. Frisk is right, we’ve gotta tell Mom.”

“Who’s going to tell her though?” Twain asked, picking at their green nail polish. “Robin’s going to be mad if we tell on them.”

“I’ll take the bullet,” Alex raised their hand. “Robin and I always fight, at least now it can be for an actual reason.”

* * *

Later, the human children sat all together at the dining room table, Toriel at the head as a tense dinner persisted in silence. For twenty agonizing minutes, none of the children said anything other than the occasional curt reply to one of their mother’s questions; it had taken Toriel the first two of those twenty minutes to ascertain that something was wrong amongst her children that evening. Clearing her throat, Toriel commanded the attention of her seven human children with the stern setting down of her fork.

“My children,” Toriel folded her hands in front of her, pausing to look into each of the seven humans’ eyes individually. “Is there something you wish to discuss with me?”

Alex opened their mouth as if to speak, only to choke on their own breath as they locked eyes with Robin from across the table; the two of them sat closest to Toriel, one on either side of her. Robin’s eye twitched into a glare as they gave a threateningly slow shake of their head. Alex narrowed their eyes right back, the silence around them stifling as their staring contest pursued.

Not a breath stirred among their siblings, each of them watching with nervous expressions as their two eldest siblings silently battled each other. Toriel glanced between the two of them, unshaken by the sight of Robin and Alex exchanging vengeful glares from across the dinner table; she merely took a deep breath and waited for one of them to speak up and start the verbal phase of their argument.

Giving an indignant huff, Alex puckered their lips and broke eye contact with Robin so they could turn and address Toriel.

“Mom, Robin’s getting calls from someone and isn’t picking them up,” Alex said in a rush before Robin could stop them. Sure enough, as soon as the words were out of their mouth, Alex felt a heavy kick land to their shin.

“Why, that is not like you, Robin,” Toriel said calmly, turning a concerned look towards her eldest living child. “Is there something wrong that we can help with?”

“It’s nothing,” Robin muttered, crossing their arms and sinking into their seat.

“Hardly nothing,” Alex piped up again. “This person’s been calling them for days and Robin just keeps letting it go to voicemail. They won’t tell anyone who it is or why they’re calling!”

“Because it’s none of your business!” Robin snapped, slamming a fist down against the table so hard everyone’s cutlery shook.

“It is when it starts turning you into some crazy rage monster,” Alex spat back. “Which it has!!”

“Alright you two,” Toriel patted her hands in their air soothingly. “You should both calm d-”

“If you don’t like how I act, that’s your problem!” Robin stood up from their seat, all of their focus on Alex as they braced their hands against the tabletop. “Sorry if my emotions are inconveniencing you.”

“That’s the thing, they aren’t inconveniencing anyone,” Alex stood up as well, teeth gritted so tightly their jaw hurt. “You just don’t tell anyone how you’re feeling at all, you’re like a freakin’ statue.”

“Forget this,” Robin’s said, voice cracking as tears began to fill their eyes. Turning away from the table, they made a beeline for the nearest exit. “I’m going to my room.”

“Hey! Hold on!” Alex said, charging after Robin. Reaching out, they grabbed their sibling’s arm and spun them back around.

“Don’t touch me!” Robin shrieked, ripping their arm out of Alex’s grasp and turning away. They didn’t try to leave the room again; instead Robin wrapped their arms around their face and pressed back against the nearest wall, shallow breaths muffling against the fabric of their button-down.

“That is quite enough,” Toriel said, standing up and moving between Alex and Robin. “We will not force Robin to talk about something they do not wish to tell us. Robin, you may go to your room if you wish.”

Robin didn’t wait for any further prompting and, in series of jerky movements, sped from the room and upstairs with their arms still wrapped around their head.

“Now then,” Toriel sighed, patting Alex’s shoulder. “Let us all settle down and continue with dinner.”

Toriel gently steered Alex back to their seat, the two of them sitting back down at the table as if nothing had happened.

“Should we go check on Robin?” Hop asked softly, tapping their fork against their chin.

“Not yet, dear,” Toriel said. “Let them calm down first. I am not sure what these phone calls are about, but it is quite plain that this is a difficult topic for Robin to handle. We must all have a little patience. They shall tell us in their own time.”

“Why do I never know how to talk to them?” Alex groaned, knotting their fingers through their already mangled hair.

“On the contrary, I think you know very well how to talk to Robin. You two are extremely close,” Toriel said. “However, you two are also very different in the ways you express yourselves. Your frustration with Robin’s reaction to situations has a tendency to take over your good sense of how _you_ should respond to their reactions.”

“I guess,” Alex sighed, glancing up to the ceiling.

“Do not worry,” Toriel reached over and placed her hand over Alex’s. “Everything will be alright.”

* * *

Robin shut their bedroom door behind them as quickly as they could; the firm click of the door latch was like the cap on an overflowing bottle of glue being twisted shut, keeping the big sticky glob of emotions locked inside of Robin where they couldn’t spill on anyone else and make a mess.

Sliding their back down the door, Robin settled on the carpeted floor of their bedroom. Drawing their knees up to their chest, they took shaky breaths in and out and tried to snap themself out of their own downward spiral into a panic attack.

“You’re okay, you’re okay, you’re okay,” Robin chanted, rocking themself back and forth. Their back made a gentle knocking sound against the wood of the door as they hit it; it was oddly comforting, an anchor of consistency amidst their swirling anxiety.

“You’re alright. You’re okay. Everything is fine,” they murmured, pressing their hands to either of their temples and squeezing their eyes shut. “You’re safe. You’re right here. No one’s going to hurt you.”

They pressed their forehead to their knees, letting their hot breaths hit their chin as they came down from their near-hyperventilation. They weren’t sure how long they sat like that, but figured it must have been for a while; because when they finally lifted their head, they could see dusk had given way to darker skies from out of their windows. Uncurling from their crouched position, Robin let their legs and arms drop limply to the floor. Taking a deep breath, they leaned their head back against the door and closed their eyes.

A comforting wash of numbness began to spread over Robin as they sat like that, luxuriating in the buzzing nothing that had taken place of their panic. They almost fell asleep like that, leaned up against the door, when a sharp jangling ringtone jolted them awake.

“Oh, leave me alone,” Robin whined, standing up to get their phone when their foot stepped on a distinctly not-carpet surface. Letting the ringtone go, Robin picked up their foot and found a little folded in half piece of paper, slightly crinkled, lying on the ground by the door. Bending over, they took the paper in their hands and unfolded it carefully. Inside, there were childish scrawls that Robin immediately deciphered as Frisk’s. 

 _Are you okay?_ The note asked.

Smiling a little bit, Robin crossed to their desk, picked up a pen, and wrote their response.

_I’m alright, Frisk. Sorry about dinner._

Sliding the note back under the door, Robin knelt and waited for the paper to come back their way.

There was the sound of a hand bracing against the door, and then that of a crayon pressing against the hard surface; then, the noted was slipped back under the door, a new message printed just under Robin’s response.

_It’s okay. Will you come out?_

Robin sighed, pressing their pen against the paper again.

_Not yet. Sorry. I’m not that alright, I guess. Haha._

The note took a little longer coming back, and Robin was surprised that the response was relatively short. Frisk must have spent a long time trying to figure the best way to reply.

_Telling someone what’s wrong might make you feel better._

Robin’s vision blurred as they stared at the childish handwriting, biting their lip as they wrote their one word response.

_Maybe._

The note came back almost immediately.

_Will you tell me who’s calling you?_

Robin ran their thumb along the edge of paper, letting go of a shaky breath. Setting the note down beside them, they reached up and let their hand rest against the crystal doorknob. Still kneeling, Robin turned the knob and opened the door just enough that their head and shoulders were visible.

On the other side of the door, Frisk was kneeling as well. Their face was as nondescript as ever, but Robin knew them well enough to know that was no indication of how Frisk was really feeling. When they saw Robin had opened the door, they shifted on their knees so they were facing their oldest sibling. Frisk blinked up at Robin, waiting for them to speak.

Sweat slicked the doorknob where Robin still held onto it; their chest felt like a hollow sky above the stormy sea of their stomach, and it was all they could do to keep their voice steady as they opened their mouth to speak. They struggled with the right way to phrase their response to Frisk’s gentle prodding; but ultimately decided that whatever mode of declaration they chose they would inevitably be unsatisfied with in the end, and so chose to just blurt the answer out as fast as possible.

“My sister,” Robin said in a single huff of breath, their voice barely breaking above a whisper. Their eyelashes fluttered against their cheeks as their eyes fell shut, feeling their face burn hotter as the words settled into silence. “You wanted to know who keeps calling me. It’s my sister.”

Before they could open their eyes again, Robin felt two tiny arms go around their neck and pull them into a tight hug. Robin laughed once, softly; wrapping their own arms around Frisk and hugging them back. Frisk reached down with one hand and gave Robin’s back a few pats; then they pulled back and placed their hands on either side of Robin’s face, standing on tiptoes so they could plant a kiss on their older sibling’s freckled nose.

“Thanks Frisk,” Robin smiled, arms still loosely holding the small child.

Frisk smiled, pulling their arms back and sticking two fingers up to look like horns on their head. Then, they drew a question mark in the air and waited for Robin to respond.

“You want to know if I’m going to tell Mom?” Robin asked, waiting for Frisk to nod before answering. When Frisk nodded, Robin let go of another heavy sigh before slowly nodding their head in return. “Yeah. Yeah, I guess I should, huh? Would you send her up here for me?”

Frisk nodded, smiling as they puttered downstairs in a flash. Robin waited until they were out of sight and then rescinded back into their room, shutting the door softly behind them as they waited for Toriel to come up.

Crossing to where their phone lay on their bedside table, Robin picked it up and weighed the cool metal in their hand. There were no calls coming in that moment, the screen a deceptively placid void of black. Then, as if their sister knew Robin was holding their phone in that very moment, the screen lit up and the vibrating ringtone jolted through Robin’s hand.

Giving a startled yelp, Robin dropped the phone as if it were a burning coal scorching their palm and let it clatter to the carpeted floor with a muffled thud.

“My, I suppose that was a _dropped call_.”

Robin jumped and spun around at the voice, finding Toriel peeking in through the doorway.

“Mom,” they breathed out, relaxing their shoulders and giving Toriel an uneasy smile.

“Frisk sent me up,” Toriel said. “May I come in?”

“Yeah, go ahead,” Robin said, motioning Toriel forward with a wave of their arm. “I need to, uh, tell you something.”

With that, Toriel entered Robin’s bedroom, softly closing the door behind her.

“You might want to sit down, uh…” Robin rubbed the back of their neck, avoiding their mother’s eyes. “Actually, I might want to sit down more.”

With an anxious huff, Robin sat down on the edge of their bed and stared dead-on at their socked feet as they pressed into the plush carpet. The phone Robin had dropped still lay on the ground by their feet, the vibrations blurring the digits of the mystery phone number as it lit up the screen. Toriel didn’t say anything, but simply came to sit by Robin’s side and waited for them to speak.

Robin stared at the phone screen until it went black again, gnawing at their lip as their eyes bored unblinking through the phone on the ground. After a few more moments of silence, Robin took a deep breath and closed their eyes.

“There’s something I never told you about my life before I fell down,” Robin said, keeping their eyes closed. Their fingers clenching the soft fabric of their comforter, palms growing sweatier every minute. “And I don’t want you to think it’s because I didn’t trust you or because it’s bad or anything.”

Even though she knew they couldn’t see with their eyes closed, Toriel gave an understanding nod. “I understand, my child. Sometimes there are things we must keep to ourselves,” she said.

“Right, well, I can’t do that anymore,” Robin sighed, opening their eyes and throwing their head back so they were staring at the ceiling. “Not when I need your advice about this.”

“I see,” Toriel nodded. “Very well, tell me in your own time then.”

“Okay,” Robin said, almost whispering.

Closing their eyes again, Robin bowed their head and drew themself up as if bracing to be hit. Nerves twisted their innards and strangled their heartbeat; blood rushed to their ears and the air in their mouth turned sour and dry. Letting an arid breath slip slowly through their lips, Robin squeezed their eyes shut tighter and clasped their fingers around the edge of their mattress like a vice.

“Mom, I have older siblings,” they spat out, keeping their eyes closed. “Like, who are related to me because we have the same birth parents.”

“Older siblings,” Toriel echoed after a brief silence, pressing a hand to her chest and staring down at the carpet.

“Yeah, three of them,” Robin said, peeking their eyes open but keeping them locked on the curl of their fingers against the edge of the bed. “Two brothers and a sister.”

Toriel took in a deep breath in. “And the person who keeps calling you?”

“My sister,” Robin said. “She called a few days ago and I picked up but I...I hung up as soon as I found out it was her.”

Robin dropped their head into their hands, hiding their blushing face from view as they felt embarrassment seep into every crevice of their consciousness. Silence hung heavy in the air like humidity after a summer rainstorm, the few seconds where neither Robin nor Toriel were saying anything sending electric shocks of anxiety shooting through Robin’s fingertips.

“These siblings…” Toriel began at last, still keeping her hands carefully to herself. She knew better than anyone that Robin didn’t always like physical comfort in times of high stress, and it was safest to just stick to emotional support until anything more was initiated. “These siblings did they...hurt you in some way?”

“Not intentionally,” Robin let one hand drop and dangle limply between their knees, while the other pushed their hair up off their forehead and held it in place. Letting go of a deep sigh, they kept their head angled so they couldn’t see Toriel’s face; a thick curtain of their orange hair acting as additional blockage against any accidental eye contact. “There was a big age gap between them and me; so, none of them were really around when all of the...you know, all of the stuff with my birth parents was happening. I don’t think they ever knew anything was going on. Which, uh, didn’t feel too great to be eight years old and not even have your older siblings know you were being abused.”  

Robin brought their hand up to their mouth, subconsciously biting at the skin around their thumbnail as they began to get lost in their own memories. Shaking themself out of it, they ran their hands through their hair and sat up straight; placing their hands in their lap.

“I think my sister must’ve seen me on the news or something. Not sure how she got my number but, you know, more confusing things have gone unexplained in my life,” Robin continued, bouncing their legs as they spoke. “She wants to see me. I mean, I suppose that’s what she wants. Otherwise, she wouldn’t keep calling.”

“But you do not want to see her?” Toriel asked softly.

“Yes,” Robin nodded. Then, wincing, cocked their head to the side and gave a low grumble of confusion. “No...I don’t know. I’m scared to talk to her and my brothers. I don’t really want to remember my life before I fell down and those three just represent exactly that to me.”

“Hmm, I see,” Toriel said, standing up and moving to peer down at the phone that still lay on the ground. As Toriel stared at the phone, its screen lit up with another incoming call; Toriel laughed softly, shaking her head as she smiled down at the device. “Your sister seems just as determined to get through to you as you once were to get through to me.”

Robin looked from their phone to Toriel, another bout of heavy blushing flaring to their ears. Toriel gave their eldest child a smile before bending down, picking up the phone from the floor, and walking over to where Robin still sat on the edge of their bed. Reaching out, Toriel took one of Robin’s hands in hers and gently set the phone in their open palm.

“You do not have to do anything you do not want to do, my dear,” Toriel said, moving her hand up to brush Robin’s hair back out of their face. “I just hope you have the mercy to spare your sister the uncertainty of an ignored phone call. Even a rejection is better than going unanswered, do you not agree?”

Toriel rested her hand for a moment on Robin’s cheek, giving them a reassuring smile before taking her hand away and crossing to the door.

“Whatever you decide, my child, I will support you,” Toriel said. “I know you will make the choice that is best for you.”

Then, Toriel left the room; Robin stared at the shut door for a while, all too aware of the weight their phone impressed on their palm. Tearing their eyes rather unceremoniously from the door, Robin looked down at their phone and pursed their lips. As if scripted, the phone screen lit up with another call as Robin sat staring at it. Taking a sharp breath in, Robin convinced themself they were more confident than they felt and touched their thumb against the little green phone button. It was an abrupt motion, over so quick that Robin was hardly sure it had happened; no voice spoke out from the other end, and they sat in tense silence for a moment.

Slowly, and with mechanical precision, Robin raised the phone to their ear and held it there. For a few seconds, there was nothing but the sound of hesitant breathing on either end; each person waiting for the other to speak first. After a considerable time, Robin rolled their eyes and gave an exasperated sigh. Flopping back on their bed, they stared at the ceiling and made a small whine of defeat.

“Lark,” they addressed their sister at last. “Don’t you have anything better to do?”


	2. What's Good for the Goose

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Preparations and arrivals.

“Can you hear anything?” Alex asked, tapping their foot impatiently against the living room floor.

“Well, I could,” Laurel said from where they were kneeling with their ear pressed to the air vent. “If _someone_ would keep their lips zipped for more than thirty seconds.”

“Sorry,” Alex held their hands out apologetically. “Just the suspense is killing me.”

“Alex, you’ve literally died before. I think you can stand waiting for Laurel to finish eavesdropping,” Bell said, one arm flung over the back of the couch as they looked up from their seat. “Besides, you guys shouldn’t even be doing that.”

“Yeah, I know, I feel horrible,” Alex said in a flat, sarcastic tone.

“I can’t believe Robin has siblings,” Twain murmured. “Like, who aren’t us, you know?”

“Yeah, it’s weird,” Hop crinkled their nose. “But they only told you about their sister, huh Frisk?”

Frisk nodded, looking up from where they’d taken to coloring on the floor.

“Eh, it makes sense they’d wait to tell Toriel first,” Bell said.

“Could you guys keep it down?” Laurel whispered harshly. “Or do you not want to know what’s going on up there?”

“Going on up where?” a new voice entered the room, making Laurel jump and hit their head off the windowsill.

“Mom!” Laurel’s eyes widened as Toriel stepped into the room. “We were just-”

“It was Alex’s idea!” Bell shouted, pointing a finger in their sibling’s direction.

“Ack! Where is the _loyalty_ , Bell!?” Alex pressed a hand to their chest, scandalized.

“You really think I’m more loyal to you than to her?” Bell asked.

“Well, I should hope so!” Alex gave an insulted scoff. “After I _literally died_ to protect you, I-”

“Hey, hey!” Bell held up a finger. “Now, I died too if you recall.”

“Mom, does Robin really have other siblings?” Twain asked over Bell and Alex’s bickering, wringing their hands anxiously.

Toriel nodded calmly. “Yes, my ch-”

“MOM DON’T LET ROBIN’S OLD FAMILY TAKE THEM AWAY!! AHHHHHHHHHHH!!!” Hop burst into tears, running forward and wrapping their arms around Toriel’s waist.

“Can they do that!?” Laurel’s face paled at the suggestion.

“Oh, I’d like to see them try!!” Alex exclaimed.

“Mom!” Twain pressed both hands to their face, tears welling in their eyes. “Is Robin leaving!?”

“No. No one is taking Robin away, and they are not leaving,” Toriel shook her head, picking Hop up and rubbing their back as they wailed into her shoulder. “There, there, Hop. It is alright.”

“You won’t let them take Robin away?” Hop pulled back, sobs still shaking their small frame.

“I do not have to do anything,” Toriel smiled. “Robin is an adult in the human world. No one can tell them who they must live with. Robin wants to stay here, they are not going anywhere.”  

“Good,” Hop gave a loud sniffle, wiping their nose on their arm. “Th-that’s a relief.”

“Then what’s this sister’s deal?” Alex asked, scrunching their eyebrows together skeptically.

“I do not know, my dear,” Toriel said. “Robin has not even picked up one of their sister’s calls yet.”

“Oh, they picked up,” Laurel said, one ear still turned to the vent. When they caught Toriel’s disapproving look though, they straightened up and gave a big smile. “Not that we were listening in on them.”

“I am sure,” Toriel laughed, setting Hop down. “Whatever Robin chooses to do, we must all support their decision. This is a very difficult matter for them to address. The last time they saw their family, they were eight years old.”

“How’d they even find out where to call?” Alex grumbled, crossing their arms and leaning sulkily back against the wall.

“Robin’s the Human Ambassador, they aren’t exactly keeping a low profile. And, I mean, when Papyrus is your secretary...” Bell cut off with a single laugh, chin propped in one hand. Clucking their tongue against the roof of their mouth, Bell flicked their gaze to Toriel. “Isn’t this the family who threw Robin down the Mount Ebbott chasm in the first place?”

“From what they have told us, the blame for that atrocity falls on their parents,” Toriel said, drumming her thumb against her chest. “We have no reason to bear any ill will against these family members. For now, we will just have to wait for Robin’s word on the matter.”

“Talking about me again?”

All eyes flashed to Robin, who was leaning in the living room doorway. The dim lighting of the room offset by the brightness of the hall light made their face difficult to distinguish from where they stood, but the pull of a smile could be made out across their face. That proved to be little consolation however, when the sheen of drying tears could also be made out as Robin stepped further into the room; but it was something Robin was obviously trying to conceal, and so no one brought it up.

“Robin!!” Hop shouted, running forward to hug their oldest sibling. “Please!! Don’t go live with your old family!!!”

“It’s okay, Hop. I promise I’m not going to live with any of them,” Robin smiled, kneeling down so they could hug their sibling back.

“So, what’s the news, then?” Bell asked, leaning forward so far they were almost hanging off the couch. “Give us all the gory details.”

“Not much to tell,” Robin shrugged, picking Hop up and moving to sit down on the couch next to Bell. Everyone else gathered around, turning their full attention to Robin. Combing their fingers through Hop’s hair, Robin began to absentmindedly braid their sibling’s wavy brown locks as they spoke. “I picked up my sister’s phone call and she wanted to know if she and our brothers could come see me.”

“And what’d you say?” Alex asked, resting their elbows on their knees as they leaned forward.

“That I would have to ask my family,” Robin said, looking up from Hop’s hair to make eye contact with the rest of their siblings and Toriel. “So, what do you all think?”

“If you are alright with it, Robin, I will gladly welcome your siblings to our home,” Toriel spoke first. “If you are not alright with it, then they may not so much as breathe in your direction without my having something to say about it.”

“Thanks Mom,” Robin smiled. “What about the rest of you?”

“Like Mom said, if you’re okay with it, I’m okay with it,” Twain said.

“Yeah!” Hop swiveled to grin at Robin. “Actually, I think it could be fun!! As long as they don’t try and make you leave, I mean.”

“I think you should do it, Robin,” Laurel said, giving a crooked smile. “You never really know when your last chance to talk to someone is gonna be; it’d be a shame not to get that closure with your siblings, ya know?”

“I agree,” Bell nodded. “But if they turn out to be complete jerks I’ll fight them myself.”

“Thanks Bell,” Robin laughed. “What about you Frisk? What do you think?”

Frisk perked up, smiling as they held up a thumb to indicate approval.

Robin smiled in return, then glanced over to where Alex was sitting in silence. “And what about you Alex?” the asked. “What do you think?”

Alex cupped a hand around the back of their neck, letting go of a slow breath as they thought over their reply.

“If it’s what you want, I’m not gonna stop you,” Alex said, running the hand on their neck up through their hair. Their fingers disentangled from their hair and left unkempt strands obscuring their face.

“But you’re not happy about it,” Robin said, pressing their cheek against Hop’s shoulder.

“I’m not...anything about it,” Alex shrugged, standing up and making a beeline for the hallway. “Doesn’t really concern me at all.”

“Mmpf!” Bell winced after Alex had left the room. “Well, _that_ was passive aggressive.”

“I’m gonna go talk to them,” Robin said, setting Hop on their feet and leaving the room as well.

* * *

Alex stalked into their bedroom, shutting the door behind them. Walking up to the edge of their bed, they put their hands on their hips and let out a long sigh before promptly letting themself flop face-first into the bright polka-dotted comforter.

They ignored the fact that they couldn’t breathe with their face smothered like that and just lay with their legs dangling off the edge of the bed as if it were the ideal position for comfort. Smacking their face into their mattress really hadn’t hurt that much, and with nothing else to look at other than the shadowed burn of their orange bedspread, they were starting to calm down again.

“You are so dramatic,” Robin’s voice suddenly spoke out from the doorway. Alex spun up from their bed, slipping down so they were sitting on the floor with their back against the frame, staring up at their older sibling who was smirking down at them in return.

“Ack! PfT!! Wha-” Alex sputtered in insulted incoherence as Robin stepped into the room. “How are you so _quiet_!? I didn’t even hear you come in and - HEY! - You’re not supposed to open someone’s door without permission, like, knock much!??”

“Sorry,” Robin said, shutting the door behind them. “I didn’t realize personal privacy was such a big deal to you.”

“Oh oooh,” Alex narrowed their eyes at the callout. “You think you’re so smart, don’t you?”

“Sometimes,” Robin shrugged, walking over to where Alex was still sitting on the floor and dropping down next to them. “You’re mad that I didn’t tell you about my older siblings.”

“Oh, so they’re older than you?” Alex raised their eyebrows.

“Yes,” Robin nodded slowly.

“Huh. Laurel must not have caught that,” Alex pursed their lips. Leaning their head back against the side of the bed, Alex stared up at the soft shadows the yellow light from their lamp cast on the ceiling. “Well...Okay, so...Alright, I...You see…”

“Alex, you have started this sentence in every possible way.”

“Hey, alright! Alright,” Alex held out their hands and patted them on the carpet, quirking their eyebrows once in feigned annoyance. “You took three weeks to answer your sister’s phone call, I think I’m entitled to three minutes to start a sentence.”

“Sorry, you’re right,” Robin suppressed an amused smile. “Take your time.”

“Thank you,” Alex took a deep breath and started again. “I’m not angry about you not telling me about your siblings. I can understand why, I mean, after what your parents did I...Nevermind, I don’t need to be bringing that up. The point is that, I’m just kind of worried, I guess. Maybe that’s not the best way to put it, but that’s the way I’m picking.”

“How do you mean?” Robin asked.

“Well,” Alex sighed, repositioning themself so they were leaned forward with their legs crossed. “Y-You and me have been a family for like eight years. Which is the same amount, if not more the amount, of time you spent with your old family. So, I just...I can’t shake this feeling that you’re gonna have to choose between us...and I feel like I’m gonna lose.”

“I understand,” Robin nodded, resting their chin in one hand and propping it against their thigh as they crouched over as well. “But here’s the thing. It’s not like I spent one eight year span with one family, had my memories washed, and then spent ten years with another; when I met you, I could still remember my siblings.”

“Yeah, exactly,” Alex said. “Can’t help but feel I’m being compared.”

“You’re not,” Robin mumbled. “My older siblings...Alex, by the time I was eight, my youngest brother was already twenty. They...My siblings weren’t in the house. They weren’t around me. Like, I-I have very few memories of us together. But you…” Robin broke off with a laugh, shoving against Alex’s shoulder. “You haven’t left me alone since the second you fell down.”

“Hey, that door swings both ways,” Alex said, smiling now. “So, if you don’t remember these people, why do you even want to see them again?”

“I don’t _not remember_ them,” Robin said. “It’s just there’s a kind of disconnect. I mean, we haven’t seen each other in ten years...I guess I want to see if there’s any, you know, point in keeping in contact with them. Aside from, like, the fact that we’re family.”

“Hmm, yeah, I guess I get it,” Alex leaned back on their hands, stretching their legs out towards the wall.

“We okay then?” Robin asked. “You’re not gonna pull out your dueling pistols when they show up here?”

“Oh, don’t give me any ideas,” Alex smirked. Robin shoved off the ground, standing over Alex as they waited for an answer to their first question. Rolling their eyes, Alex pulled one knee up and rubbed a hand through their messy hair. “Yeah, we’re okay.”

“Cool,” Robin nodded, heading for the door.

“Hey, Rob, one more thing,” Alex called out, looking down at their toes.

“Yeah?” Robin turned their shoulders towards their sibling, one hand on the door.

“You said your youngest older sibling was twenty when you were eight?” Alex lifted an eyebrow, expression turning sour.

“Uh-huh,” Robin nodded.

“They didn’t…” Alex lifted their shoulders in a shrug, shaking their head in slight disbelief. “...do anything to help you? When things got bad at home?”

Robin looked down to their feet, shuffling one ankle against their calve as they bit their lip in discomfort.

“I don’t think they knew,” they murmured quietly, before pulling the door open and leaving the room.

* * *

A couple weeks and a few more phone calls later, the night of Robin’s siblings coming to visit arrived. Their siblings all lived at least a few hours away, and so Robin had to wait for them all to confirm a decent time to make the journey before continuing with any of the organizing. After the initial phone call with their sister, Robin had delegated most of the planning to Toriel.

Even though Robin’s sister was the only one to have been in contact with them about the matter, Lark had assured Robin that both their brothers would be accompanying her. As the day drew nearer, Robin seemed to grow more and more anxious about the entire ordeal; very suddenly requesting a number of their monster friends to be present at the planned dinner, just in case they needed a militia at the last moment.

“I’m just saying, I don’t see why we’ve gotta get dressed up,” Alex complained, wincing as Mettaton raked a comb roughly through their disheveled hair. “God, Mettaton, could you try not to rip the flesh from my skull at least!?”

“Beauty is pain, darling,” Mettaton said in response, humming to himself as he kept combing Alex’s hair.

“Right, then I’m gonna be frickin’ stunning tonight,” Alex grumbled. “Which brings me back to: why do we have to get dressed up for Robin’s old family coming over?”

“Uhh, because Mom wants us to?” Laurel shrugged, smoothing out their dark red sweater as they stood in front of the full-length mirror on Alex’s closet door. “I don’t know, I don’t have a good reason for you.”

“Exactly,” Alex said, letting out a sharp gasp as Mettaton yanked through a particularly knotted patch of their hair. “I mean, it’s not like Robin cares if we dress up for these people.”

“Maybe not,” Hop piped up, pausing in their jumping up and down on Alex’s bed to strike a pose. Their dark hair hung loose and long down to the middle of their back, shiny with MTT-Brand hair product. Toriel had given Hop permission to have their one pink boot activated for the evening, and they’d paired it with a longsleeved black velvet dress Mettaton had helped them pick out. “But it can’t hurt for us to all look ABSOLUTELY BEAUTIFUL when those guys show up.”

“You’re positively right!” Mettaton gushed, tossing the comb away over his shoulder and going to pick Hop up and swing them in a circle before settling them on his hip. The two posed in tandem, each complimenting the other flawlessly. “Appearances are _everything_! You can dominate any situation with the right look, Alex-darling!”

“Good to know,” Alex rolled their eyes, picking up the comb from the floor and crossing to join Laurel at the mirror. “Outta the way, Laurel, I’m prepping for battle.”

The doorbell sounded, sending a shock through the four of them gathered in Alex’s room; they all froze and looked at each other, an air of uncertainty settling over them.

Hop was the fastest to recover, scrambling down from Mettaton’s arms and bolting for Alex’s bedroom door.

“They’re here, they’re here, they’re here!” Hop called to the whole house, flinging the door open and zipping down the stairs. “I’LL GET IT!!!!”

“Hop, hold on!” Alex called after their sibling, crossing out to the top of the stairwell. “You can’t just-”

“Haha! Nice hairdo, Alex!” a familiar voice taunted from the bottom of the stairs.

“Oh, it’s just you,” Alex rolled their eyes as they realized it had been Bell at the door. “So sorry, I mistook you for the honored guests.”

“Aw, Alex, you almost sounded genuinely excited to meet Robin’s other siblings for a second,” Bell laughed, turning to wave to their father as he drove away. They were wearing a sparkly yellow ballerina skirt paired with a lacey white tank top, and blue star-shaped hair clips dotted around their forehead.

“You staying the night?” Alex asked with a pointed glance to Bell’s duffel bag slung over their shoulder.

“You bet!” Bell grinned. "My parents talked it over with Toriel. I'll stay there one night next weekend." 

Alex smiled. “Well, that should make Laurel h-”

“Bell!” Laurel emerged from Alex’s bedroom next, elation splitting across their face as they hurried down the stairs. “You’re here!”

“Heck yeah I’m here!!” Bell exclaimed, wrapping their sibling in a tight hug.

“I told you guys they were here,” Hop said, shutting the front door. “I mean, granted, I thought they were Robin’s old family at the door...BUT STILL!!” 

“Bell, you’re here!” Twain burst out of the kitchen, apron streaked with flour and whisk in hand. Toriel followed behind, rushing to pick Bell up in a big hug.

“Jeez, you guys act like we haven’t seen Bell in years,” Alex said as they descended the stairs, still in their bathrobe. “They were just here yesterday, remember? Scuffing up the walls with those ballet stretches and-”

“Ah, just hug me!” Bell spun towards their older sibling and held their arms out.

“If you insist,” Alex shrugged, wrapping their arms around Bell and picking them up off the ground.

“So, who’s all here?” Bell asked, looking up to where Mettaton was waving his fingers out at them from the top of the stairs.

“Sans and Alphys are in the living room, talking about science,” Twain pointed in the direction of the distant sound of extremely long and complicated words being thrown around.

“And Papyrus and Undyne are downstairs playing video games last I checked,” Laurel added. Their statement was punctuated by a loud crash that sounded suspiciously like a couch being thrown against a wall, accompanied by Undyne’s unmistakable roar of defeat and Papyrus’ distinctive laugh of victory.

“Blooky should be around here somewhere,” Mettaton announced. “I think they went to help Robin get ready.”

“And Asgore’s out back in the garden!!” Hop pointed to the back sliding doors, where Asgore could be seen preening the hydrangea bushes as the sun set in the background. Frisk was at his side, handing him tools at a safe distance so as not to get dirt on their formal attire.

“Wow, Asgore was invited?” Bell raised their eyebrows as Alex set them down. “Must be serious.”

“Yes, well, Robin requested as many familiar faces as could be gathered,” Toriel said. “In fact, they were the one who asked Asgore to come themself. I believe they will feel safer the more protection they have on their side tonight; so, I do not mind Asgore’s presence so long as he is helping my children instead of harming them.”

“Speaking of Robin,” Bell said. “How are they holding up?”

“Err…” a concerned grimace crossed Toriel’s face. “They are...a touch anxious about tonight. Perhaps you may want to go up to say hello and check on them, my child?”

“Yeah, of course!” Bell gave a thumbs up, heading up the stairs with Laurel’s hand in theirs.

“Well,” Alex shrugged as they went up the stairs as well. “I guess I’ll just go check on Robin t-”

“No, no, no!” Mettaton grabbed Alex by the arm. “Your hair is far from finished, darling. Ever since you started growing it out, it’s been an unsightly mop! I might need to break out my metal hair gel for this.”

“Hop, get Mettaton under control!” Alex called out as they were dragged back into their room.

“Don’t worry, he’s just a harmless killer robot!” Hop laughed, heading up the stairs as well.

“Yeah, Alex,” Bell paused to wink at their older sibling. “He’s just trying to make you look drop _dead_ gorgeous.”

“Shh, before sans hears you!” Laurel said, pushing Bell down the hall to Robin’s bedroom.

“uh, you rang?” sans’ head poked out of the living room. “bell, good to see ya. i actually had some new material i wanted to run by-”

“Not today, you goblin!” Laurel pointed a threatening finger at the skeleton. “You make one pun and I’m calling the police!”

“wow,” sans chuckled. “i can’t believe i’m gonna be _pun_ der arrest.”

Toriel laughed out loud at that, while Laurel made all manner of insulted noises and sped towards Robin’s room. Bell went after their sibling, trying to contain their laughter.

* * *

Robin pressed the heels of their palms against their closed eyes, groaning hard enough to make their entire spine shift against the carpet of their bedroom floor.

“I don’t think I can do this, Blook,” Robin muttered, letting their hands drop so they were resting atop their stomach. “I never expected to see my birth family again, what am I even going to say to them?”

“....ohhh….” Napstablook puzzled over the question from where they lay next to Robin on the floor. “i’d tell you to ‘just be yourself’....but that never seems to work for me…….”

Robin quirked their head to the side so they could see their friend better. “I like you for you, Blook.”

“....oh.....” Napstablook hovered in silence, a phantasmic blush crawling up their face.

“HEY-OH!!” Bell kicked the door open suddenly, their beaded sandals jangling with the swing of their foot. Robin lurched upwards into a sitting position, clutching at their chest.

“ _Bell_ ,” Robin gasped. “Are you trying to give me a _heart attack_!?”

“Yeah, I was. Did it work?” Bell gave a cheeky grin as they and Laurel stepped into the room.

“Very nearly,” Robin said, standing and turning towards their siblings.

“What were you doing when we came in?” Bell raised an eyebrow.

“Laying on the ground…” Robin said, pressing their hands together.

“......feeling like garbage….” Napstablook added, floating up so they were at Robin’s side.

“Right, uh, well...Wait…” Bell’s eyes narrowed, looking Robin up and down. Pulling Laurel the rest of the way into the room and shutting the door with their back, Bell lowered their voice. “What are you wearing?”

“Huh!? Oh…” Robin looked down at themself. They had on a bright yellow dress, patterned with cherries that fell to the knee; which wouldn’t have been too alarming, if the dress hadn’t also been almost uncomfortably tight around Robin’s waist and chest. In general, Robin wasn’t very fond of tight clothes; and they never wore bright popping colors that made them the center of attention. “I thought it looked...nice…”

“Yeah, I mean, don’t get me wrong, you look good,” Bell said, pressing a hand to the side of their face and biting their lip. “Rob, you just...you look so uncomfortable.”

“Does it show?” Robin walked to their full-length mirror and frowned at their reflection. “Eugh, I guess you’re right. I just...I didn’t know what to wear so I went shopping and I…”

“Picked something you thought your siblings would like?” Bell guessed.

“Is it that obvious?” Robin asked.

“Kind of,” Laurel said, coming up beside them and rubbing their chin in contemplation. “You don’t look like yourself.”

“Well, I just, I haven’t seen them in ten years. I just wanted-” Robin broke off with an exasperated groan. Turning away from the mirror they sat down at their desk with a huff. “I don’t know. I don’t know what I wanted.”

Bell shuffled their foot against the carpet, looking down as they thought things over. “Blook,” they said suddenly, looking towards the ghost. “Go tell Toriel we’re gonna be a little while coming down.”

“...oh…..okay…..” Napstablook said, descending through the floor until they were completely vanished from the room.

“Alright,” Bell clapped their hands in front of them. “First thing’s first, get out of that dress.”

“O-Okay,” Robin said, standing up and reaching for the zipper on the back. Laurel was there in an instant, helping their sibling undo their zipper.

“You should wear your binder, you _like_ wearing that and you _always_ look more comfortable when you have it on,” Bell said, heading to Robin’s dresser and rooting around in the top drawer until finding what they were looking for. Tromping over and shoving the binder into Robin’s hands, Bell grabbed Laurel’s hand and the two turned back towards Robin’s closet.

“Why don’t you wear one of your button-downs?” Laurel asked, pulling out a hanger with a soft blue shirt and holding it up for Bell to see. “This shirt with the-”

“-light gray pullover, exactly what I was thinking!” Bell finished, dashing back to the dresser and tugging out the sweater in question. “And roll up the sleeves!! You look sensational with your sleeves rolled up.”

“You think?” Robin asked, tugging their binder into place and pulling their hair out from the back.

“I _know_ ,” Bell grinned, handing Robin their shirt.

“What about your pinstriped pants, Robin?” Laurel called from three-quarters into the closet. “You _love_ your pinstriped pants.”

“You don’t think it’s too...boring?” Robin asked, doing up the buttons of their shirt.

“You couldn’t be boring if you tried,” Bell patted their shoulder reassuringly.

“Thanks Bell,” Robin smiled.

“No problem,” Bell grinned. Then, they gave a little jump and turned towards Robin’s vanity. “Ooh! Let’s talk accessories!”

“Less is more, Bell! Less is more!!” Laurel waved their hands as they hurried to join their sibling.

* * *

“Ack! You’re gonna put my eye out!!” Alex shouted, grabbing Mettaton’s wrist before he could come at them with the mascara brush again. “I know how to put on my make up, Mettaton!”

“Darling, you always do too much,” Mettaton tutted his chin. “I’m simply accentuating your natural beauty as opposed to say, dipping your eyelashes in black paint.”

“Are you saying that’s what _I_ do!?” Alex asked in astonishment. “One time you used so much glitter on your face you were blinded by your own spotlight.”

“Details, details,” Mettaton waved his hand. “Now, are you going to let me finish or not?”

Giving an exasperated sigh, Alex crossed their arms and sat still for their robot stylist. “Go ahead,” they muttered.

From down the hallway, there came a thud like a body hitting the ground, immediately followed by a trio of laughter. Alex recognized the laughs of their siblings, picking out Bell, Laurel, and Robin’s voices from the noise. Narrowing their eyes, they made a move like they wanted to storm over to Robin’s room.

“What are they doing in there?” Alex turned their head, but was stopped by the cool metal of Mettaton’s hand.

“Just a second, sweetheart,” Mettaton said in a singsong voice, face so close his nose almost bumped against Alex’s. Turning Alex’s face from side to side, Mettaton tucked a few flyways under Alex’s bright orange headband and then took his hands away; standing back, he struck a triumphant pose. “My work here is finished. You look Absolutely Gorgeous, Alex-darling.”

“Great,” Alex said, standing up in a rush. “Uh, thanks, Mettaton.”

“Don’t mention it, dear!!” Mettaton called, turning to his own reflection in the mirror as Alex left the room.

Alex shut their bedroom door behind them as they exited into the hallway, leaving Mettaton to have some alone time with his reflection. Straightening the ties around the waist of their blouse, Alex went to go check on whatever was happening in Robin’s room. Just as they were about to take a step towards the shut bedroom door; a sound from downstairs stopped them dead in their tracks. The noise from behind Robin’s door ceased and the hustle and bustle from the living room and kitchen settled to a dull roar as the tail end of the doorbell ringing coursed throughout the house.

Gripping the banister, Alex peered down the staircase to see if anyone had gone to answer the door. No one had, and they couldn’t hear anyone making any moves to. Behind the frosted glass of the front door, they could make out three distinct figures waiting on the stoop. Looking around one more time for someone who was making their way to let the visitors in, Alex gave a low groan and shoved off the railing. Tromping down the stairs and across the foyer, Alex grabbed a hold of the front door handle and flung it open for Robin’s older siblings.


	3. The Wind In the Leaves

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Time to meet the family!!

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Bet you thought you'd seen the last of me ;^)

Alex had to physically stop themself from gagging. The three adults standing in the doorway looked _so much_ like Robin it was sickening. Their round freckled faces and bright orange hair felt like bragging to Alex; like these three strangers were just driving home the point that they were Robin’s biological family with a white hot poker to their skull. Alex’s grip was so tight on the doorknob that they could feel the gilded details etching into the palm of their hand, and still they hadn’t uttered a word to Robin’s three older siblings.

“Uh…” the woman at the front and center of the gathering spoke up first. “Is this...the right address? We’re here to see Robin. We’re their-”

“You look just like them, wow!” Bell’s voice gasped out from where they were leaning over the bannister, Laurel stood partially hidden behind them.

“Alex, dear, why don’t you invite them in?” Toriel’s gentle voice prompted as she stepped out from the kitchen with Twain and Frisk at her side.

Alex made a low noise of disapproval, but stepped aside and motioned for the three guests to enter the house.

“Jeez, Alex,” Bell piped up from the top of the stairs, a nervous laugh at the edge of their voice. “That look should come with a warning label. It’s deadly.”

“I’m going downstairs,” Alex mumbled, turning on their heel and stalking down to the basement to hang out with Papyrus and Undyne, slamming the door behind them.

“Well then,” Toriel clapped her hands in front of her, smiling at the three adults who were standing awkwardly by the entryway. Waving her hand forward, Toriel beckoned Laurel and Bell to come downstairs. “Welcome to our home. I am Toriel, and these are some of my other children.”

“Hi,” the woman smiled, fidgeting her hands around each other. Her hair was silky straight, bobbed to her shoulders and parted down the middle; she was pleasantly plump and wore a dress that was a bright, happy fuschia color. Stepping forward, she took Toriel’s outstretched palm in both of hers. “[I’m Lark.](http://starsfadingbutilingeron.tumblr.com/post/175077788431/its-an-exaltation) My brothers and I are so happy to be here.”

“Lark, how wonderful to meet you in person,” Toriel beamed. “You are just as lovely as you sound on the telephone. And how nice to meet Robin’s other siblings as well.”

“Thanks, I’m Wren,” the older of the two men stepped forward next. He was a bit taller than Alex and had twice the bulk; a stubbly orange beard coated his face and blended up into his short curly hair. He was wearing a plain button-down with the sleeves rolled up, and it made Laurel smile that Robin seemed to have similar fashion tastes to their brother. “Nice to meet you.”

“Finch Perch. Uh, I mean, Finch. Just Finch. You can call me Finch, don’t worry about the last name,” the youngest of the three siblings smiled nervously as he shook Toriel’s hand last. Of all three of the siblings, he resembled Robin the most. He looked to be about thirty, with a lean build and copper hair as well, styled into orderly spikes on the top of his head. He was wearing a tailored light gray suit, but he looked uncomfortable in it; like a little kid being forced to dress up for church.

“How nice to meet you all,” Toriel nodded, taking a step back. “Robin is still not quite ready to come down yet, so, in the meantime-”

“Are they here!?” Hop’s voice called out as they burst into view at the top of the stairs, grabbing a hold of Bell’s leg to steady themself and nearly jerking their older sibling’s hip out of its socket in the process. “Are they really here this time!?”

“Yes, Hop,” Toriel smiled. “Why don’t you come down and meet them?”

“YEEEEEEEHAAAWWWW!!!!” Hop threw their head back and shouted excitedly, clambering down the stairs in a flash and looking around wildly. “Where are they? Where are they!?”

“Right there,” Bell laughed, pointing to the three adults as they descended the stairs as well. They had Laurel’s hand in theirs, and the younger teen trailed with trepidation after Bell.  

“OHHH!!” Hop’s eyes lit up with realization. “Behind their parents you mean! I had no idea Robin had _three_ awful human parents!! Nice to meet you!”

“Uh, Hop…” Laurel winced as their younger sibling pushed their way through the three adults and began searching for Robin’s siblings. “Those aren’t Robin’s parents…”

“Hm?” Hop looked up, confused as they stood in the midst of the three now-amusedly grinning adults. “Then who are these people?”

“Those are Robin’s siblings,” Bell said in a stage whisper.

“No way!” Hop shook their head, scoffing as if seeing through a transparent attempt at a prank. “They’re too old to be Robin’s younger siblings.”

“That’s because they’re their _older_ siblings, Hop,” Laurel explained.

Hop’s jaw dropped, doing a triple-take on the adults surrounding them. The three smiled down at them, exchanging uncertain glances between each other.

“Robin has _older_ siblings!?” Hop’s eyes bugged out of their head. “Wh-No way. Nooo way. This is made up,” spinning around, Hop pointed an accusing finger at the three adults in question. “How old are you?”

“Oh, I...Uhm,” Lark blushed, laughing a little at Hop’s serious tone. “Well, I’m thirty-four.”

“Thirty-two,” Wren said, smirking in amusement.

“Thirty,” Finch finished.

“Consecutive even integers,” Laurel murmured to Bell; who nodded sagely, as if that information meant anything to them at all.

“You see!?” Hop’s voice picked up. “That is too old and this is fake!”

“If it helps,” Lark spoke up, digging a small papery object out of her purse. “I have this picture of Robin from the last time I saw them.”

Kneeling down, Lark held the picture out for Hop’s inspection. Hop reached out and took the photo gently in their hands, staring down at the image before them. The woman in the picture was Lark about ten years younger but still undeniably herself; in her lap was a little eight year old kid with a red ribbon wound around their copper hair like a headband and a plastic toy knife in their hand.

“Holy crap,” Bell breathed, peering over Hop’s shoulder. “That’s Robin alright.”

“Wow, look how new their ribbon is,” Laurel remarked at the shiny red strand of fabric glinting off the camera’s flash.

“That was from me,” Lark smiled. “They would wear that thing all the time.”

Frisk made a face at that, remembering what Robin had said about trying to look cute by wearing that ribbon to try and make their parents like them more.

“The knife was mine,” Wren added. “Robin would always play with it so I just gave it to to them one day when I was older.”

“Mom,” Twain took the picture from Hop and held it up to Toriel. “You’d know if this were Robin or not, right?”

Toriel smiled, taking the photo in her hands. “Of course I would,” she said, running a thumb over the image. “This is almost exactly how Robin looked when they fell down all those years ago…” her face turned grim in an instant, but she quickly shook herself out of it. “Here is your photo back,” Toriel said, handing the picture to Lark. “Dinner will not be ready for another half hour. Why don’t you all go into the living room with Sans and Alphys while I finish cooking?”

“Are Sans and Alphys your other kids?” Finch asked.

Laurel started laughing at that, walking ahead to go into the living room with Bell at their side.

“No,” Toriel smiled at Finch, concealing a giggle of her own. “You’ve met all of my other children already. Alex is who answered the door, Laurel is wearing glasses, and Bell has the star clips in their hair. You’re very well-acquainted with Hop already. And these two are Twain and Frisk.”

“Man, you have your hands full,” Wren remarked. “Do you take care of all of them by yourself or do y-”

A deafening slam cut Wren off and the sound of clomping boots on hardwood took over the house. Undyne stormed into view, a determined scowl on her face as she marched past the gathering of people in the entryway. Whipping her head around, she fixed the three guests with a foreboding glare. Motioning to her eyes to silently tell the three siblings she was watching them, Undyne turned and stomped up the stairs.

“Who was that?” Lark stared after Undyne, clutching a hand to her chest.

“That’s Undyne!” Twain smiled. “Don’t let the murderous intent fool you, she’s a big softie at heart.”

“I bet,” Finch let out a careful breath. “She, uh, another friend of yours?”

“Yeah, Undyne was the Head of the Royal Guard,” Twain nodded. “She tried to kill us when we were still underground, until I beat her in battle. Now, she’s one of our best friends!!”

“Oh yeah?” Wren raised his eyebrows.

“That’s how we made all our friends who are monsters!!” Hop bounced on their feet excitedly. “Mettaton tried to kill me on Live T.V. before we became friends!”

“Wait,” Finch held out a hand. “You know Mettaton?”

“Uhhh...yeah…” Hop nodded, smile widening.

“I’m actually, uh,” Finch began to blush. “Actually kind of a big fan of his.”

“REALLY!?” Hop’s eyes lit up.  

“Uh-huh,” Finch’s blushing deepened, his gaze flitting to his shoes.

“Let me take you to the living room!!” Hop beamed, striding forward and taking both of Finch’s hands and leading him away from his siblings. “I’ll tell you all about the time Mettaton tried to bludgeon me with a discoball!”

“Twain, why don’t you and Frisk take Lark and Wren into the living room as well?” Toriel asked, giving her two remaining children a gentle shove forwards.

“Oh, okay!” Twain smiled. Frisk nodded along. “Just follow us then.”

Twain took the lead, fidgeting a bit with nerves as the older strangers followed after them. Lark was quick to pick up on this, and started asking Twain questions about themself. Her gentle voice must have worked its charm, because Twain relaxed a little as they continued to walk forward.

Frisk’s attention was on Wren, who walked silently and solemnly alongside his sister. He didn’t offer any contribution to the conversation, and kept his eyes forward. Frisk scrunched their nose up at him; something in the set of his jaw unnerved them, and all they could do was hope their instincts were wrong.

* * *

Robin tugged nervously at the edges of their rolled up sleeves, trying to make them line up evenly with each other and each time finding some miniscule fault that caused them to start all over again. They knew they were procrastinating going downstairs at this point, knew there was no feasible reason why they should stay in their room a second longer. Well, that wasn’t entirely true. There was a feasible reason why they couldn’t go downstairs yet. They were scared.

Giving an uncertain whine, Robin whirled away from their dresser and went to stare out the window. The sun was beginning to set over the distant hills that dotted the horizon; soon it would be completely dark. Closing their eyes, Robin took a deep breath and tried to force themself to turn and walk downstairs.

But before they could test the strength of their nerves, a strong rapping sounded on the other side of their door. The knocking was too strong-fisted to be coming from any of their younger siblings, and it made Robin jump a little. But they recognized the sound as having a distinctly Undyne air of insistence and didn’t hesitate to walk across the room and open the door.

“Hey, kiddo,” Undyne grinned as Robin opened the door, leaning one blue muscled bicep against the doorframe. “I was just coming up to check on ya. Everyone’s waiting down there. Papyrus and I had to drag Alex upstairs, but we got the job done,” Undyne laughed, but stopped when she saw the nervous look pass over Robin’s face. “Not that, uh...Not that I came up here to drag you downstairs. I just was gonna offer to walk down with you or, like, help you make a great escape if you aren’t feelin’ this whole family reunion thing anymore or something.”

Robin laughed a little, feeling some of their nerves quell just talking to their friend. “Thanks Undyne,” they murmured, turning and walking back into their room. They sat down on the edge of their bed, motioning for Undyne to come in.

Undyne clomped over to the bed and sat down next to Robin, placing a firm but gentle hand on their young friend’s back and rubbing slow circles between their shoulders. “Hey look,” Undyne bit her lip. “If you’re really not feeling this, I was totally serious about helping you make a break for it. We’ll blow this joint and go bowling or something. I’ll kick your ass, it’ll be a real fun time.”

Robin laughed again, this time feeling sobs catch in their throat. “Thank you, Undyne,” they said, setting their elbows on their knees and placing their head in their hands. “I don’t want to run from this though, I don’t think. I just, uh, I’m just scared. I’m really scared.”

“I know you said that it was just your parents who were awful to you,” Undyne said. “But uh, are you sure these siblings didn’t do anything to you? Because you don’t have to lie to protect them.”

“No, they really didn’t do anything bad to me,” Robin sighed, running a hand through their hair. “They were good siblings to me. I just...I don’t want to just be the youngest Perch sibling, you know? Does that make sense?” Robin looked up into Undyne’s perplexed face and sighed again, flopping back onto their bed so they could stare at the ceiling. “I’m proud of who I am and where I am in my life. I don’t want my older siblings being back into my life to change that. I don’t want to fall into old habits just because I feel like I have to do what they say.”

“I get what you mean,” Undyne nodded, laying back to stare at the ceiling with them. “But you’ve really gotta give yourself more credit, Robin. You’re a brave person. You’re really smart and you don’t take crap from anyone. And you’ve got the strength to stay true to who you are and what you want, even in the face of your older siblings.”

Robin took a shaky breath, nodding their head. “I guess you’re right,” they said softly.

“Of course I am,” Undyne grinned, sitting up. Looking back at Robin, Undyne held out her arm and softened her smile a bit. “So, whaddya say? Let’s go face these punks together, huh?”

Robin smiled, sitting up and taking Undyne’s arm in their own. Standing up, the two strode to the doorway and walked out into the hallway.

“Thank you, Undyne,” Robin murmured, tightening their grip on Undyne’s arm.

“Hey, what are friends for?” Undyne beamed as she reached the top of the staircase. “And hey, if they really do end up being a troupe of jerks, we’ll just kick ‘em to the curb.”

“Yeah,” Robin laughed shakily, unable to do much more as they battled against the jackhammering of their heartbeat.

Robin kept a white knuckled grip on Undyne’s arm as the two descended the staircase; while Undyne kept a scaly hand clasped over her human friend’s to let them know she was there and ready to destroy anyone who made them uncomfortable. As they neared the living room, Robin could hear indistinct chatter sharpening into coherent words with each step closer.

The doors to the living room were wide open, but no one seemed to have noticed Robin step into view at the bottom of the stairs yet. Hop was recounting the story of how they’d lost their foot, complete with dramatic poses, and had the entire room either mesmerized or looking away in discomfort. Edging quietly to the doorway, Robin hung back with barely a toe in the room; grip on Undyne’s arm tightening as they waited for the three siblings they could now see before them to notice they were there.

“And there I was...drenched in sweat...tears pouring down my face...one braid singed off...looking up at the King of All Monsters,” Hop was saying, standing on one of Asgore’s huge thighs as he sat twiddling his thumbs and avoiding Toriel’s glare. “As I was staring, I felt a warm feeling crawling up my right leg. When I looked down, I saw my entire leg was catching on fire! So I-”

Hop broke off suddenly, catching sight of Robin in the doorway. They tried to sputter their narration back to life, but everyone else was already turning their heads to see what had cut Hop’s story short.

Lark was up on her feet in an instant, backing up until she hit the edge of the fireplace, mouth gaping like a fish the entire time. Wren and Finch had remained seated; but Finch had clapped a hand over his mouth in surprise, and Wren had practically turned into a statue he was so frozen with shock.

“I-I-I-” Lark sputtered, clapping a hand to her chest. Moving forwards a little bit, tears welled in her eyes and a watery smile split across her face. “I’m so…” she all but whispered to keep her voice from breaking. “I’m so...I-I’m so…” her face twisted, and then she was pressing her hands over it and sobbing into her palms. “I’m so happy, Robin,” Lark cried. “I’m so happy you’re okay.”

Robin barely felt present in the moment, they felt as if they were a balloon tied to a fencepost and someone had just snipped the ribbon keeping them tethered down. But before they even knew what they were doing, their hand slipped away from Undyne’s arm and their feet were carrying them across the room to where their sister stood crying against the wall.

“Lark,” Robin said once they’d been able to shake themself back into the present. Wiping her face off as best she could, Lark gathered her composure somewhat and met her sibling’s gaze. When Robin locked eyes with their sibling, their own face softened and they gave Lark a smile. “It’s nice to see you again.”

Lark gave a watery laugh, wiping away her still-falling tears with the back of her wrist. “Can I...Uhm…” Lark hesitated, half-raising her arms towards Robin. “Can I hug you?”

Robin blushed, looking around as they thought over their answer. “Uh…” they hesitated, glancing sheepishly up at Lark. “Can you wait, please?”

“Yeah,” Lark snapped her arms to her sides immediately, eager to set Robin at ease while transforming into a jittering bundle of nerves herself. “Of course. Of course I can wait!”

“Thanks,” Robin breathed a sigh of relief. Wiping their hands on their pants, they turned slowly to where their brothers were still seated on the couch in shock. “Hi,” Robin said quietly.

Pulling his hand away from his mouth, Finch let a bright smile spread across his face as he stood up on his feet. “Hi,” he said back in a similar quiet tone.

“It’s, uh, been a long time, huh?” Wren asked, standing up next to Finch.

“Yeah,” Robin fidgeted with their hands. “You guys all look the same though. Pretty much.”

“Well, you don’t!” Finch’s smile grew as he stepped around the couch to go stand by Lark. “You were so tiny last time I saw you, Robbie!”

Robin stiffened as if a bolt of lighting had shot through their spine, biting their lip as they noticed an immediate gasp of amusement and shock bubble up from where Bell sat.

“ _Robbie!?_ ” Bell leaned forward, eyes alight with mischievous intent. “Who’s Robbie!?”

“That was my childhood nickname,” Robin muttered from where they’d dropped their face into their hands.

“ _Oh my God!!_ ” Bell squealed.

“Uh, maybe I shouldn’t have said it?” Finch bit his finger nervously.

“No, no, my good man,” Bell stood up, waving their hands. “You most definitely should have and should _continue_ to do so,” they sat back, nudging Alex with their elbow. “Isn’t that great, Alex?”

“Hmm,” Alex mumbled, lips pressed tightly together to keep from speaking.

Robin frowned in concern. “Are you okay, Alex?”

Alex waved their hand. “I’m fine, Rob, don’t worry about it.”

“Welp,” Bell stood up suddenly, hands on their hips. “The atmosphere just got really uncomfortable in here. I’m gonna go see Mom in the kitchen.”

“Sounds fun, I’m in!” Laurel stood up.

“Me too,” Twain all but bolted from the room, eager to leave.

“But I haven’t finished my story!” Hop declared from where they still stood on Asgore’s lap. When Frisk strode past, Hop pressed a hand to their chest in astonishment. “You too, Frisk!?”

Frisk turned and shrugged, looking unconcerned as they followed the chain of older siblings into the kitchen.

“Well, their loss,” Hop waved a dismissive hand, resting their elbow on Asgore’s head. “Anyways, where was I?”

“Your leg was about to get cut off,” Alex said.

“Ah yes,” Hop nodded, clearing their throat before turning back to their remaining audience. “There I was...drenched in sweat...tears pouring down my face...one braid singed off...looking up at the King of All Monsters…”

* * *

“My children, I am touched that you all wanted to help me in the kitchen; but it is not polite to leave your company unattended,” Toriel chided as her four children who had elected to leave the living room now milled about the kitchen.

“Mom, the tension was so thick you could’ve cut it with a…” Bell reached for the nearest cooking utensil and held it up for emphasis. “...with a whisk?”

“I see,” Toriel nodded. “However, do you not think it might have been better of you to stay and offer Robin your support?”

“Oh no,” Twain’s face fell as they hefted a large salad bowl onto the counter. “Do you think we should go back out there? I was just so uncomfortable, I wasn’t thinking. I didn’t mean to make Robin feel worse.”

“It is alright, dear one,” Toriel reached down to pat Twain on the head. “They still have Alex and Hop with them, as well as a good many of their other friends. I am sure Robin feels very secure.”

“Alex is so mad,” Laurel muttered from where they were placing sprigs of parsley on the plates. “They don’t like Robin’s older siblings.”

Frisk pattered their hands against the countertop to get Laurel’s attention and signed something to them.

“Huh? You don’t either?” Laurel furrowed their brow, waiting as Frisk signed something additional to their initial statement. “It’s just Wren you don’t like? How come?”

Frisk shrugged, then grimaced like they’d smelt something rotten. They signed a parting statement to Laurel before heading out into the dining room with the salt and pepper shakers.

“Frisk says that Wren has a bad look about his face,” Laurel scratched nervously behind their ear. “Do you think we should be worried?”

“I think we should be wary,” Toriel said, arranging the dinner rolls attractively in their dish. “But let us not make rash judgments based on first impressions. We should give Wren a chance to show his true colors before we decide whether or not he is worthy of our trust. That goes for Lark and Finch as well. Outward appearance is no definitive indication of inward intention.”

“Well, I hope he’s nice,” Twain murmured, flicking on the oven light to check on the butterscotch pie that was baking for dessert.

“Yeah, I hope they’re all nice,” Bell said, brandishing the whisk in their hand like a weapon. “I’d hate to have to open a can of whoop-ass on them in the middle of dinner.”

“It opens cans, it can cut through tension…” Laurel grinned as they picked up a couple plates and headed for the dining room. “Jeez, Bell, what can’t that whisk do?”

“Ironically, it can’t whisk ingredients worth a damn,” Bell grinned, patting the whisk against their palm.

“Alright,” Toriel took the whisk out of Bell’s hands and gave them a dish of food instead. “Enough cursing. Go help set the table.”

“Okay, okay,” Bell said, looking up at Toriel’s unamused face before winking up at her. “Come on, Mom, don’t be mad. No more cursing….I _swear_.”

Toriel’s expression remained neutral for a split second before she succumbed to a fit of howling laughter, nearly dropping the dish in her own hands as she struggled to regain her composure.

* * *

At the dinner table, Robin found themself extremely satisfied with their decision to invite as many guests over as possible. With the cacophony of voices filling the room, Robin could get away with saying as little as possible; and with the way they’d arranged the seating, Robin had put as many possible people between them and their older siblings.

If the other guests minded being used as parts of Robin’s own personal wall of protection, none of them let on and simply enjoyed their evening as if there were no additional strangers to their party. Mettaton and Napstablook discussed their next performance with Hop, while Finch stared on in starstruck bewilderment. Sans and Bell exchanged bad jokes; much to the irritation of both Laurel and Papyrus, who let their disgust at the appalling humor out in the most animated language.

Undyne spent a good part of her time glaring at Wren out of the corner of her eye, and the other part of her time flexing for a blushing Alphys. Twain and Frisk were playing rock paper scissors under the table, both of them bored and wishing the evening would soon. Alex was quiet for the most part, Robin and them communicating silently with their facial expressions from where they sat on either side of Toriel.

Asgore seemed to be the only one trying to actively include the Perch siblings in a conversation, but his questions were so polite and small talkish that whatever response any of Robin’s older siblings conjured never lasted more than a few minutes.

“So, Lark,” Asgore asked, his voice stiff and formal as if he were reading off cue cards. “What’s your job?”

“I’m a pediatrician,” Lark smiled.

Hop leaned over the table, holding up a finger to Mettaton to pause their conversation. “What’s a pediatrician?”

Before Lark could open her mouth to reply, Laurel was clearing their throat to speak. “A pediatrician’s like a doctor for children,” they said.

“a pediatrician, huh?” Sans spoke up. “sounds like you must get a lot of time to _kid_ around with a job like that.”

“I really am sick and tired of you,” Laurel rolled their eyes at sans.

“Yeah sans,” Bell nodded. “Pediatrics is serious stuff, not just _child’s_ play.”

Sans and Bell erupted into laughter at their own jokes, nearly falling off their chairs. From down at the end of the table, Toriel started laughing as well.

“Anyways,” Laurel rolled their eyes again, straightening their glasses. “What about you, Wren? What do you do?”

“Hm?” Wren raised an eyebrow, his expression having not changed in at least an hour. “Oh, I do some freelance carpentry. Custom furniture, restorations, et cetera.”

“Interesting,” Laurel nodded.

“Finch, what do you do!?” Hop asked, having moved to pose on Mettaton’s lap while the robot held them in place.

“Oh, I don’t do anything special much,” Finch waved his hands. “I just work as a data analyst for a health insurance company. But I, uh, I do dance on the side. Sort of as a hobby.”

“A dancer!?” Mettaton’s eyes lit up. “You simply _must_ audition for me, darling! I’m always looking for fresh talent on the stage. Robin, sweetheart, you should’ve told me your brother could dance!”

“I had no idea he did,” Robin shrugged, blushing a little bit. “Uh, Finch, Bell’s a dancer too.”

“Really?” Finch turned to look at Bell, all politeness and smiles.

“Oh yeah, you bet I am!” Bell grinned. “My moves have literally saved my life.”

“could you say they’re...to _die_ for?” Sans winked.

“SANS!!!” Papyrus shouted as Bell and Toriel began to laugh. “STOP OFFENDING THE HUMANS WITH YOUR JOKES!”

“Aw, come on, Papyrus,” Bell patted one of the skeleton’s bony arms. “I think you’re still just a little bitter about losing our battle.”

“I MOST CERTAINLY AM NOT!” Papyrus declared. “I WON THAT BATTLE VALIANTLY, AND SPARED YOU OUT OF THE GOODNESS OF MY HEART.”

“Whatever you say, Paps,” Bell smiled, giving Papyrus another pat on the arm.

“So,” Alex spoke up for the first time since they’d sat down and it caught everyone’s attention. Folding their hands and angling their shoulders so they could see all three of Robin’s older siblings in plain view. “What are your parents doing these days?”

“Alex,” Toriel said, placing a hand on her child’s arm.

Lark blinked, caught a little off guard by the question. “Um, well, they’re fine,” she smiled a little uneasily.

“Do they still live nearby?” Robin asked, picking at their fingernails under the table.

“No, actually,” Finch said. “They moved a number of years ago. Left Wren the house though, so it’s still in the family if you wanted to visit.”

“That’s alright,” Robin murmured. “Uhm, where’d they move to?”

“Somewhere in Florida, I think,” Lark said.

“Think? Don’t you know?” Alex asked.

“No,” Lark shrugged, trying to laugh it off. “They didn’t really tell us exactly where they were moving to. Just that they were moving. We haven’t really heard from them since they moved; so not a lot of opportunities to find out, y’know.”

“That’s weird,” Alex stated, tracing the rim of their water glass with one finger.

“Not really,” Wren said, his expression dropping to something defensive. “They both turned kind of reclusive and private after Robin ran away.”

Alex stopped moving their finger around the edge of their glass and turned to stare at Wren. “After what?”

Wren looked at all of the eyes that had turned to stare at him in disbelief. “After Robin ran away,” he repeated, slower.

Robin took in a shaky breath, hands curling into fists in their lap. “You think I ran away?”

“That’s what Mom and Dad said, yeah,” Finch cut in, folding his hands and turning a worried stare towards Robin. “Is that not right?”

Robin let out a hoarse noise, something caught between a laugh and a sob. They shook their head and looked down to the tabletop, trying to gather their composure.

“Rob, you alright?” Alex asked quietly, their hand reaching across the table towards Robin.

“I’m...fine. I’m-” Robin broke off, raising one hand to cover their face as they felt a sob hitch in the back of their throat.

“Robin,” Lark spoke up, her voice full of concern. “Tell us the truth. How did you fall down Mount Ebott?”

“I didn’t fall down Mount Ebott,” Robin said slowly, looking up at their siblings with tears in their eyes. “I was thrown down.”

Lark’s face blanched, her grip on the back of her chair tightening. “Thrown down?” she repeated, her voice barely a whisper.

“Someone threw you down, Robbie?” Finch’s voice sounded broken when he spoke.

“Who!?” Wren demanded, his voice sounding of nothing but anger.

Robin took a deep breath, sitting up straight in their seat and fixing each of their older siblings with a steeled gaze before speaking.

“Our parents,” they said, fingernails digging into their legs even through the fabric of their pants. “Our parents threw me down Mount Ebott.”


	4. Calling Birds

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I lived bitch.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Holy shit I've had this chapter half-finished in my drafts for like four months!! I hope all six of my wonderful readers for this fic enjoy the update ;^)

After the truth of Robin’s falling down had come out, the dinner came to an unsubtly abrupt end. Toriel had stood up in a flash, politely but sternly guiding all of their gathered monster friends and family out the front door in a jumbled heap of protest and concern. Then, Toriel had somehow managed to take six children each by one of their wrists and carted them upstairs, stating that Robin and their older siblings needed to be left alone to speak with each other.

Alex had allowed themself to be all but shoved through changing into their pajamas and getting ready for bed, but once the upstairs had quieted enough, they emerged from their room and snuck to the railing to peer downstairs in the hopes of catching wind of the conversation they were missing. But just as they were beginning to lean over the railing, just barely etching out the shallow murmur of voices behind the closed living room doors, a harsh whisper sounding from behind them nearly startled Alex into toppling over the edge of the railing straight to the ground floor.

“Alex!” Bell whispered through clenched teeth, charging forward in their blue flannel nightgown. Laurel followed close behind in a set of purple satin pajamas and without their glasses.

“Jeeza, Bell! Are you trying to give me a heart attack!?” Alex whirled around, thanking every imaginable deity that Robin wasn’t there to hear them use their catchphrase.

“You’re eavesdropping on Robin and their older siblings, aren’t you?” Bell accused, charging forward and jabbing an accusatory finger into the center of Alex’s chest. But that was all the farther they got into their interrogation as a chain of three smaller figures broke between the two older children and headed for the stairs.

“Coming through, excuse us,” Hop said, marching at the front of the line in an XXL T-shirt emblazoned on the front with Mettaton’s brand logo. Frisk followed Hop in a pink and blue striped set of footie pajamas, and Twain brought up the rear in a set of pajamas designed to look like a chef’s uniform.

“Where do you three think you’re going?” Bell asked, tapping their foot impatiently.

Hop paused, turning around and brandishing an empty glass for Bell to see. “To eavesdrop on Robin, duh.”

“With a glass, like in the movies?” Bell raised their eyebrows.

“Uh-huh,” Hop said, Frisk nodding along in agreement.

“Twain, they roped you into this?” Bell asked.

“No,” Twain shook their head. “It was my idea.”

Bell blanched for a moment. “It was _your_ idea!?”

“Here, I’ll help you guys,” Laurel stepped forward, ushering the three younger kids downstairs.

“Laurel!” Bell exclaimed.

“Hey, wait for me,” Alex called, following their siblings downstairs.

“Guys, you can’t just-” Bell cut off with an irritated groan, looking over their shoulder for any sign of Toriel before whipping back around and huffing a breath of resignation. “Wait up!” they called, hurrying to catch up with their siblings as they all went to spy on Robin and their older siblings.

* * *

 “So, I’m not sure where to begin,” Robin said as they shut the living room doors behind them. After the news of their parents had been dropped, all four of the Perch siblings had decided it was time to have a private conversation together. Toriel had sent the other guests home and taken her other children upstairs. For the first time in ten years, Robin was completely alone with their older siblings.

“Just start wherever you want,” Lark said, fidgeting her hands around one another where they were clasped around her knees. She sat in between her two younger brothers, all three of them huddled on the sofa.

“Right,” Robin nodded, sitting down in a chair across from their siblings. They shuffled in their seat a bit, visibly unnerved as they twisted their fingers together. “Uhm…”

“W-Well, why don’t I start for you?” Lark asked, picking up on how nervous their youngest sibling was. “Obviously, Mom and Dad didn’t just up and decide to throw you down the Mt. Ebott chasm on a whim-”

“Actually, uh, it wasn’t down the chasm,” Robin interrupted, picking at the corner of their mouth and keeping their eyes glued to the carpet.

“It wasn’t?” Lark wrinkled her brow.

“Wait, if they didn’t throw you down the chasm then where did they throw you down?” Finch asked.

Robin shifted in their seat again, blowing a deep breath out through their cheeks and blinking up to the ceiling to try and keep from crying. “They threw me in the river the runs through the mountain. It leads to a waterfall that carried me down to the underground.”

“The river?” Finch raised his eyebrows. “You mean the river everyone throws their garbage into?”

“Yep, that would be the one,” Robin said, reaching up to scratch their neck. “So, uh, yeah I was thrown into the river and landed in heaps of wet garbage. Then, I was almost killed by Undyne because you know there was that whole ‘Every human who falls down must die’ law that Asgore made. And then I was possessed by Napstablook and they took me to live with Toriel and that’s where I lived for the past ten years.”

“Jesus,” Wren muttered. “No wonder you’re so messed up.”

“Wren,” Lark elbowed her younger brother and shook her head disapprovingly. Turning back to Robin, Lark offered a sympathetic look. “I’m so sorry that happened, Robin.”

“It’s okay, it wasn’t your fault,” Robin said.

“But we should have known,” Finch spoke up, fingers tapping against the arm of the sofa. “We should have done something, I- How did we not know? Robbie, I’m-”

“It’s okay, really, Finch,” Robin held up a hand. “There’s no way you could have known. Our parents were pretty careful about when and what they did to me,” letting out a sigh, Robin pushed a lock of orange hair behind their ear. “They waited until all three of you were out of the house. So, about the time Finch was in college was when the physical abuse really started.”

“This is...crazy,” Wren shook his head, pressing two fingers to his right temple. “When we would come around for holidays, everything was fine. You were happy.”

“Yeah, I was happy because whenever you guys came home I caught a break for a few days,” Robin said, clasping and unclasping their sweating palms. “I mean, just because you didn’t see it with your own eyes doesn’t mean it didn’t happen.”  

“I know, I know,” Wren said, crossing his arms and turning a grimace to the wall. “It’s just not how I think of our parents, you know.”

“Well, I gotta say, I’m not that surprised,” Lark shrugged.

“What!?” Wren furrowed his brow.

Finch let out a sigh of relief and reached for Lark’s arm. “Me either, I thought I was the only one.”

“I don’t get it,” Wren shook his head. “How is this not surprising?”

“Wren, come on, you remember how Mom reacted when I came out as a lesbian,” Lark said, her fingers instinctively going to her wedding ring. “I mean, she’s probably still referring to Nicole as my ‘special friend.’”

“Yeah, or how about when I told Dad I was a trans?” Finch lifted his eyebrows at Wren. “I thought the neighbors would call the cops with how loud he was yelling.”

“Okay well,” Wren sighed, leaning forward in his seat. “That’s different. Those are at least understandable reasons-”

“Understandable!?” Lark scoffed.

“No, I don’t mean that they were right. Just-” Wren sighed again, heavier. “Robin, why in the hell would they do that to you when you were just a little kid?”

Robin bit their lip and looked to the side. “Wren, it was never a secret that Mom and Dad didn’t plan on having me. I mean, you’re all at least twelve years older than me. Pretty obvious I was an accident.”

“Yeah, but you don’t just throw a kid down a waterfall because you don’t want them,” Lark said, growing more outraged the more details she heard. “Robin, what they did to you was wrong!”

“I know, I know. I know, Lark,” Robin patted the air with their hand. “But it’s already happened. It’s in the past, and I’m okay. I’m safe, I’m alive, and I’m happy.”

Lark smiled, sitting back and trying to blink back the tears in her eyes. “Well, that’s the important thing,” she said, her voice wavering a bit.

“It is,” Robin nodded. “And, you know, maybe it was for the best. If Mom and Dad had never thrown me down then I wouldn’t have the family I do now.”

“Guess it’s that whole silver lining thing, huh?” Finch smiled. “I’m really happy for you, Robbie.”

“Thanks, Finch,” Robin smiled back, their shoulders relaxing a little bit.

“You know me, Robin, I’m happy if you’re happy,” Lark said, tears still glittering in her eyes.

“Thanks,” Robin murmured, blushing now. Looking up through their eyelashes, Robin turned a sheepish gaze to their oldest brother. “Wren, you’re very quiet.”

Wren took a deep breath. “I guess it’s just…” he trailed off, biting his thumb before he continued. “Robin, I _am_ happy that you’re safe. Okay, and I’m not trying to be the asshole here but we can’t just...I can’t just pretend that I’m okay with all of this.”

“Wren, please,” Lark muttered through clenched teeth.

“I’m sorry, but I’ve got to speak my mind,” Wren sat up and fixed Robin with a stern look. “You being trapped underground messed with your head. Those other kids are not your siblings, and that goat woman is not your mother.”

Robin sucked in a sharp breath. “Is that so?” their voice dropped an octave, turning defensive.

“Yes. And I’m sorry if that upsets you, but that’s the way it is,” Wren said. “Lark and Finch don’t want to upset you, but I know they agree with me.”

“Wren!” Lark snapped, whipping her head towards her brother. “You don’t speak for me.”

“Or me,” Finch added.

“Whatever,” Wren rolled his eyes. “The bottom line is that you don’t belong here, Robin. You belong with your real family. I think you should come home.”

“I am with my real family,” Robin said, standing up from their seat and drawing their shoulders back. “Wherever they are is my home.”

“Do you even hear yourself?” Wren stood up as well, looking over his shoulder at Lark and Finch for support he wouldn’t find. Rolling his eyes, Wren looked back to Robin and gave them a condescending smirk. “I mean, you sound exactly like how I’d expect someone who spent the past ten years trapped underground to sound.”

“ _Wren!_ ” Lark shot up from where she was sitting. “That’s enough.”

“And _you_ sound exactly like someone who would have a hard time believing our parents threw me into the river to die!” Robin shouted back, jabbing an accusatory finger at Wren.

“Oh, like those monsters were so kind to you,” Wren scoffed, reaching forward and grabbing Robin’s wrist. Holding the underside of Robin’s forearm to the light, Wren exposed the fading talon scars Robin had from their first monster encounter in the underground. “Yeah, don’t think I didn’t notice that,” Wren shoved Robin’s arm away. “And the way those other kids were talking? Almost all of those monsters that were here tonight have tried to kill you, Robin!”

“I don’t have to explain my choices to you!” Robin screamed, grabbing at either side of their head and squeezing their eyes shut. Letting go of a shaking breath, Robin opened their eyes and fixed Wren with a stony glare. “I want you to leave. I want you gone.”

Wren took a step forward. “I am not leaving you here.”

“It’s not your decision,” Robin sneered. “I’m not a little kid.”

“But you’re sick, Robin,” Wren said. “You can’t think things through properly. Once we get you away from here and get you some help, you’ll see that I’m right.”

“Wren,” Finch stood at last, holding his arm between his brother and Robin. “You really need to shut up.”

Wren shoved Finch’s hand away and kept talking to Robin. “You need to go get your stuff together and come home with us. Right now.”

“Stop telling me what to do,” Robin almost laughed, but the noise was strangled by the sobs that were swirling around in the back of their throat. “You have no right-”

“I’m your brother!”

“No, you’re not!” Robin spat out at last, balling their hands into fists at their sides. “I don’t even _know_ you. I don’t know _any_ of you!”

Lark pushed past Wren to move towards her youngest sibling. “Robin, I-”

“I’m done with this,” Robin said, whirling away and rushing to leave the room.

* * *

“What are they saying?” Hop asked, pressing against Alex’s shoulder as they kneeled on the floor.

Alex swatted Hop away, leaning harder against the closed living room doors. “Shh! I’m trying to listen!!”

“Well, it’s not fair you’re the only one who gets to hear!”

“Hop, if you keep jabbering on, none of us will get to hear,” Laurel whispered, arms crossed over Alex’s head as they stood on tiptoes trying to make out the voices on the other side of the door for themself.

“You know, you really shouldn’t be listening in on their conversation to begin with,” Bell said from where they sat against the wall. “It’s an invasion of privacy.”

“Spare me the lecture, Mother Teresa,” Alex rolled their eyes. “If you’re so against it, why are you hanging around like a fly on the wall?”

“I’m supervising,” Bell said.

“Oh well, that convinced me,” Laurel muttered.

Alex groaned. “This is impossible, I can’t hear a thing!”

“Then, you go stand with Bell and ‘supervise’ too; I’ll keep trying,” Laurel said.

Alex shoved away from the doors and went to stand with their other siblings. “I still can’t believe those three had no idea what happened to Robin at all.”

“Well, it’s not like Robin was there to tell them the truth,” Bell shrugged.

“That Wren guy seemed so mad,” Hop shuddered. “I don’t like him.”

“He is kind of scary,” Twain murmured from where they sat on the floor, playing a hand game with Frisk. “I hope Robin’s doing alright in there.”

“Children!” Toriel’s hushed voice sounded from the top of the stairs. All six kids turned to see their mother hurrying down the stairs towards them. “I told you not to bother Robin and their older siblings while they spoke. It is a private conversation.”

“Toriel, I just want to take this opportunity to say that I was against this from the start,” Bell shot up immediately. “And I was sitting guard to make sure these miscreants didn’t get too out of hand.”

“Yes, I am sure, dear,” Toriel lifted her eyebrow, laughing a little bit. “Now, you all must go back upstairs and leave Robin alone-”

Before Toriel could finish her sentence, the living room doors burst open and Robin came rushing out in a blur of orange hair. Robin ran past their siblings and Toriel as fast as they could, but not before Alex spotted their older sibling’s shoulders heaving with poorly-contained sobs.

“Rob?” Alex called. When Robin didn’t pause or slow down, Alex started after them as fast as they could. “Robin, hold on!”

While Alex’s calls drifted off into muted background noise, the other human children all shifted away from the staircase and instead turned their attention to the three remaining Perch siblings.

“What happened?” Hop muttered, turning a wide-eyed stare into the living room. This time, neither Toriel nor Bell objected to how the others crowded around the door to hear the tail end of whatever argument had caused Robin to bolt from the room crying.

Lark sat silently on the edge of one of the armchairs, her face clutched tightly in her hands as she slumped over in her seat. Wren and Finch were still arguing, each of them standing and facing the other. Finch’s face was red and his hands flew in wide gestures while Wren’s face remained neutral and calm, his arms crossed tightly over his chest.  

“What is wrong with you!? Why would you say that?” Finch demanded, hands flying erratically around his head.

“You think this is normal for them to be living with all these monsters?” Wren countered, voice a frighteningly steady whisper.

“I think it’s as normal as we can hope for, given the situation,” Finch put his hands on his hips, scrunching his nose to keep from crying in the middle of an argument. Shaking his head, Finch avoided eye contact with his brother. “Y-You had no right to say what you did.”

Wren rolled his eyes. “I’m their older brother-”

“Yeah, so am I,” Finch cut Wren off, voice shaking ever so slightly. “And I’m telling you, you were way out of line.”

“All I did was say what everyone else was thinking,” Wren scoffed. “They aren’t a monster, they’re human. They don’t belong here.”

“Of course they aren’t a monster, they know that,” Finch shot back, gesturing around the house. “But this is what they’re comfortable with. They were _raised_ by a monster, okay? They were raised by the Queen of All Monsters, for crying out loud!”

“And you think that’s right, do you?” Wren asked. “You think it’s healthy for them to have been raised by an entirely different species?”

“I think it’s a hell of a lot healthier than being raised by people who would throw a child down a raging waterfall,” Finch spat back without missing a beat.  

“Way to go, Finch,” Laurel whispered to Bell, who nodded in agreement.

“A-And it’s been ten years. Robin’s eighteen,” Finch continued. “We don’t get to tell them what to do! I mean, for God’s sake, we didn’t even know _why_ they disappeared until like an hour ago. We’ve gotta take the time to get to know them before we start giving them life advice,” Finch paused, looking up to the ceiling and giving a disheartened sigh. “You know, if they ever open up to us again after your little outburst. I wouldn’t be surprised if they didn’t want to see us anymore after this.”

“If they don’t want to see us anymore, then that just proves my point. Robin is sick, they need professional help,” Wren said, throwing his hands up as if he’d just constructed an unshakably cogent argument. “We need to get them out of here.”

Not wanting to hear anymore, Hop broke free from their other siblings with an indignant yell. Before anyone could reach out and stop them, Hop was storming into the room and screaming at Wren. They had climbed on top of the coffee table so they could be taller, but still just barely reached Wren’s shoulder.

“Shut up!!” Hop shouted, stamping their metal foot so hard the photos on the mantel rattled. “Shut up, you don’t know anything about Robin! I won’t let you say mean things about them, you stupid bully!”

Wren blanched like he couldn’t believe his own eyes. “This has nothing to do with you, kid,” he said eventually. “Robin was my sibling first, and I-”

“I don’t care, I don’t care, I don’t care!” Hop screamed, hysterical sobs climbing in their throat. “You’re so selfish. You don’t care about Robin’s happiness at all, you just care that you think it’s weird they live with monsters. Well, Robin wants to stay here and I won’t let you take them away!”

“Hop,” Laurel moved into the room, walking up to the table and turning their younger sibling towards them. “It’s alright. Robin’s not going anywhere, this guy’s just being a jerk.”

Hop sniffed, wiping their nose on their sleeve. “A big jerk,” they corrected before letting Laurel take their hand and lead them out of the room.

Toriel stepped forward, subconsciously widening her stance so her children were fully guarded behind her. “Perhaps you should leave, Wren.”

Wren gave an indignant scoff, looking to Finch for support that wasn’t there. Stomping out of the living room, Wren went to throw open the front door. “I wouldn’t set foot in this nut house again if you paid me,” he declared.

Bell stomped forward at that, pushing past Toriel and grabbing Wren by the sleeve of his shirt so he was forced to spin around and look at them. “What the hell was that, you jerk!?”

“Let go of me,” Wren shook Bell’s hand off. “I’m already leaving, no need to prove how strong you think you are.”

“Oh yeah!?” Bell laughed, reaching down and taking off one of their shoes to aim it at Wren. Twain’s eyes widened and they whirled away towards the kitchen. “I’ve literally conquered death, and you think _you_ can scare me?”

Wren blinked in surprise at Bell’s statement, only to let out a low whistle and give another scornful laugh. “No wonder you all flock together. You’re all just as crazy as the person next to y-”

Wren was cut off when, out of nowhere, a cluster of metal wires flew at him and twanged against his pale freckled face. Catching the object in his hand, Wren held it out in front of him and furrowed his brow in shock at the whisk clutched in his outstretched palm.

“What in the…” Wren looked over to the other kids and spotted, near the back of the room, Twain with their arm still outstretched from throwing the utensil. When Wren made eye contact with them, Twain let out a yelp and ran back into the kitchen.

“Wren, get out of here,” Finch said from where he’d poked his head out of the living room.

“I’m going, I’m going,” Wren rolled his eyes, flicking the whisk to the ground with a sneer.

“Allow me to help you,” Toriel said, striding forward with a renewed sheen of vengeance in her eyes. Taking Wren’s arm firmly in one of her strong muscled hands, Toriel threw the front door open and shoved Wren outside with enough force to launch him halfway down the stone walkway before he managed to skitter to a halt. Slamming the door shut behind her, Toriel turned back to her children and slapped her hands together with finality. “That takes care of that. Now then,” she turned and looked to Finch and then Lark. “If either of you share the sentiments of your brother, you may show yourselves out at once.”

“Don’t worry,” Finch held a hand out in a placating motion, trying for a laugh to diffuse the tension but ending up sounding like he’d swallowed a deflating balloon instead. “Wren has always been a, uhm, how should I put it…”

“An asshole?” Bell offered.

“Well, you’re not wrong,” Finch straightened up a little, wiping his hand nervously on the side of his pant leg. “But no, I- Look, I’m so sorry he did that. It wasn’t fair to Robin, or any of you. I can tell they really care about all of you, and that you really are family to them.”

Toriel seemed to soften a little at that, her shoulders relaxing to their usual stoic posture as she moved fully into the living room.

As Toriel and Finch began to speak in low, even tones about the debacle that had just taken place, Lark stood from her seat and walked quietly out into the main hallway. Bending down, Lark picked up Twain’s whisk from where it had landed on the floor. Looking first at the utensil in her hand and then to the door that Twain had disappeared behind, Lark straightened her back out and began to move towards the door at the back of the room. The other children regarded her with wary stares, but none moved to stop her as she pushed that door open and stepped inside the kitchen.

Lark found Twain in the empty kitchen, their back to her as they stood at the sink washing what few dirty dishes remained from dinner. Twain had heard the door squeak open and snuck a glance over their shoulder to see who had come into the room with them; seeing Lark’s face, Twain quickly snapped their focus back to the quickly diminishing stack of dirty dinnerware.

“I brought you your whisk,” Lark said softly, stepping towards Twain and leaving the utensil on the counter near their elbow. “Probably gonna want to wash that, too.”

Twain silently took the whisk in their hand and pushed it under the gushing stream of water coming from the sink’s faucet, not making eye contact with Lark. “I’m sorry I threw it at your brother,” they said. “I was angry.”

“Don’t worry too much about it,” Lark said, crossing her arms and leaning with her backside against the edge of the counter. “If you ask me, I think he more than had it coming.”

“Yeah,” Twain agreed, setting the whisk on the drying rack and shutting the sink off. “I still shouldn’t have done it though. Hurting the people who hurt you doesn’t feel as good as it’s cracked up to.”

“That’s pretty smart,” Lark nodded, looking down to her feet as Twain dried their hands on a dish towel and turned to meet her gaze at last. “Robin’s lucky to have a sibling like you.”

Twain gave a laugh, setting the dish towel down and picking absentmindedly at the handle of one of the cabinet handles. “More like I’m lucky to have a sibling like them. Robin’s the best person I know.”

“I believe it,” Lark kept nodding, biting down on their quivering lip to keep from crying in front of a kid.

“You know the best thing about Robin?” Twain asked, leaning their head to the side and giving Lark a thoughtful look.

“Probably not,” Lark leaned her head back and blinked at the ceiling.

“If you apologize to them and really mean it, Robin will always forgive you,” Twain said, running a hand along the counter and giving it a gentle pat. “Especially if you didn’t actually do anything wrong.”

Lark gave a wry laugh, wiping the back of her hand against her cheek and smiling down at Twain. “How do you know I didn’t do anything wrong?”

“Oh, we eavesdropped on the entire conversation you four had,” Twain grinned.

Lark laughed harder, the tension dropping a bit from her shoulders. “You did, did you?”

“Yep,” Twain nodded. “And you didn’t do anything wrong, at least not how I was interpreting everything. So, you should talk to Robin. They-” Twain took a deep breath, patting the back of their right hand against the palm of their left. “They need you.”

Lark smiled, looking down to her toes again. “No,” she shook her head. “Robin’s all grown up. Everything’s already happened to them. I don’t think I...”

“You’re their big sister,” Twain said, picking up the conversation when Lark trailed off into silence. “They’re always gonna look up to you. I know I’m always gonna look up to Robin, and I didn’t know them for eight years of my life.”

“Hmm,” Lark felt their smile widen involuntarily, looking to Twain with admiration as the young child stared kindly up at them. “You’re a sweet kid.”

“Thank you,” Twain grinned, reaching up and giving Lark a gentle slap on the arm. “Now, go talk to Robin. They’ll forgive you, I know they will.”

“Okay,” Lark let out a mix between a laugh and a sigh, shoving off the counter and moving to leave the kitchen. “Hey,” she called, looking over her shoulder as she reached the kitchen doorway.

Twain looked up from where they were folding a stray napkin and tilted their head to the side. “Yeah?” they prompted with a smile.

“Nothing just…” Lark took a breath and returned the smile with one of her own. “Thanks, Twain.”

“You’re welcome,” Twain laughed a little, waving Lark away with their hand a little insistently now. “Go.”

“Alright, alright,” Lark held up her hands in surrender, turning and finally leaving the kitchen as she made her way to head upstairs.  


	5. Take These Broken Wings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Grouptale AU? More like Group Hug AU.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> An update under a month from when the previous chapter was posted? It's more likely than you think.

Robin bolted up the stairs in a blind flash, whirling their hand around on the bannister and all but catapulting themself into their room. Behind them Robin could hear worried voices calling their name, but they’d had enough of sharing their emotions with others for one day and slammed the door shut as forcefully as they could manage.

Finally coming to a halt, Robin straightened their spine out once before buckling over with sobs and burying their face in their hands. They started pacing, trying to expel the nervous energy buzzing around inside them; but the movement only seemed to accelerate their panicked breaths and increase their frustration. Glancing to their bed, Robin was considering jumping right under the covers and never coming out again, when a knock on their bedroom door broke them out of their downwards mental spiral.

“Go away!” Robin shouted, whirling towards the shut door and reaching for the lock.

“Rob, it’s me,” Alex’s voice came from the other side. “I’m alone. Will you just let-”

Robin threw the door open and yanked Alex inside, cutting them off before their question could leave their mouth. Shutting and locking the door behind them, Robin turned back towards Alex and fell against their chest with an exhausted slump. Alex was quick to react, wrapping their arms tightly around Robin as their frame shook with their building sobs.

“It’s alright, Rob,” Alex said, squeezing their sibling tighter as Robin hugged them back. “You’re safe. You’re right here and no one’s gonna take you away. It’s okay.”

“God, Alex,” Robin gave a loud sniffle, wrestling down their hysterics as they pulled away and turned back to pace around their room. “This is exactly what I was afraid of. This whole thing was a mistake. I should have just ignored Lark’s calls and-”

“And what? Lived the rest of your life pretending you never had any older siblings? Yeah, can’t see that one as having blown up in your face at all,” Alex said, stepping over to Robin’s desk and sitting themself down.

“Hey, I thought you were on my side here!”

“I am Robin, damn,” Alex said, blowing their hair out of their eyes with an exasperated huff. “But being on your side doesn’t mean I’ve gotta agree with everything you say. I think you were right to invite your family over here. I think it was really brave, actually. Maybe it didn’t work out so great but isn’t this better than languishing in uncertainty?”

“No!” Robin protested, crossing their arms and taking a deep, unsteady breath through their gaping mouth. “Yes? Maybe. I don’t know.”

“You do realize you just gave every possible answer to that question, right?” Alex quirked an eyebrow up and smirked.

“Oh, shut up!” Robin reached out and plucked a pillow from their bead, swinging out and smacking Alex upside the head with it. “Smartass.”

“Look, Rob, all I’m saying is that even though this night sucked, it was kind of a necessary evil. Do you think Lark would have left you alone if you’d just kept ignoring her calls?” Alex asked.

“She should have respected my boundaries in the first place,” Robin said.

“Come on, Robin, put yourself in her shoes,” Alex said. “You lose your youngest sibling and ten years later they turn up. What would you have done?”

Robin pursed their lips, looking down to their shoes as they kicked at the carpeting with a stubborn scowl. “Probably the exact same thing.”

“Exactly,” Alex nodded. “As for Wren?” Alex asked, jabbing a thumb over their shoulder as if Robin’s older brother were standing right behind them. “Fuck that guy. He came in this house tonight determined to be an asshole. But your other siblings, Rob, I...I don’t know, they seem…”

“Seem what?” Robin asked, flicking their gaze up to Alex.

“They seem like they really are just happy you’re alive,” Alex said. “And I know I’ve been a jerk about this whole ordeal from the beginning, but I said it before and I’ll say it again. I think you made the right choice in inviting them over here. And if you never want to see any of them ever again, I will support you one-hundred percent. But I think maybe that’s not really what you want.”

Robin opened their mouth to reply, but was cut off by a gentle knocking at their bedroom door. The knocking stopped after a moment, but then was followed by an even gentler voice speaking out from the hallway.

“Robin?” Lark’s voice called. “Look, I’m- I’m so sorry about what happened downstairs. Can I please come in?”

Robin whirled towards Alex, face falling a shade paler than normal. “What do I do?” they whispered.

“What do you _want_ to do?” Alex asked.

Robin bit their lip. “I don’t know.”

* * *

On the other side of the door, Lark let go of a shaky breath. She felt more than a little stupid standing in someone else’s hallway talking to a closed door, but Lark realized that loving someone meant that sometimes their feelings had to come before your own. And so, she put her petty feelings of unfounded embarrassment on the backburner, and devoted her attention to communicating to Robin how loved they were.

As Lark waited for Robin’s reply, she glanced over the railing on the staircase. As she gazed over the banister, she noticed the intrigued faces of the Robin’s younger siblings staring back up at her and almost laughed at the contortions they had gone to in order to watch the spectacle from below.

Twain had emerged from the kitchen and was standing amongst their family members, catching Lark’s eye and motioning for her to keep going. Lark smiled down at the child who had been so kind to her and, almost apprehensively, looked around to the other children to see if they shared the same opinion of her. The other four looked to Twain first and, seeing their sibling’s approval, turned back to Lark and gave their own individual thumbs-ups or encouraging smiles to tell her that they thought she was doing the right thing.

Taking a deep breath and nodding at the children below, Lark turned back to the door and basked in the uncertain silence that had fallen behind it. Lark felt a precarious hope ignite at Robin’s failure to respond immediately, allowing the silence to supply her with hope of forgiveness instead of despair at being ignored.

“Robin, look,” Lark picked up where she had left off. “If you really don’t want to talk to me or Finch again, we’ll leave you alone. I’ll make sure Wren never contacts you again. Whatever you want, just...I’ll do anything for you if you think it’s going to make you happy, Robin.”

Lark looked down at her shoes, shuffling her toes against the carpeted hallway.

“But you answered my call,” Lark continued, slowly and carefully, twining her fingers together anxiously as she forced herself to look back up to the closed door. “Granted, it - it took you a while to do so, but you still did. I have to hope that means that, to some degree, you want us in your life. Is that true?

“Either that or, uh, you brought us here just to tell us to leave you alone,” Lark gave a nervous laugh, hemmed by an uncomfortable whine at the end of it. “Which is fine, if you did. But look, if this is the last time I’m gonna talk to you, I just- I don’t even know what to say.”

The click of the door’s lock, almost inaudible, crested into the brief pause of silence Lark left. Lark’s fingers twitched towards the doorknob to test it, but she held herself back.

“I don’t think I’m ready to say goodbye,” Lark whispered, looking down to the crack between the door and the carpet and watching the shadows of two feet shuffle right up against it.

Giving a soft scoff at herself, Lark turned around and leaned back against the doorframe. Crossing her arms over her chest and glancing up to the chandelier screwed in place on the ceiling, Lark let go of a deep sigh and let her voice relax.

“I know. I thought you were gone for good already, what should be the big deal about not having you in my life now?” Lark said. Then, she glanced over her shoulder at the still closed door and scrunched her nose to keep from crying. “But Robin, I was never ready to say goodbye to you. If you want me to leave you alone, though, I’m just going to have to live with that.”

A deafening silence crashed around Lark’s ears, and she feared that this would be the only response she would ever receive from her younger sibling. But the foreboding prospect of an eternity of silence only lasted for the incomprehensibly long tick of a second, as the sound of a doorknob turning broke through the quiet and banished it away with the accompanying noise of squeaking door hinges.

Lark turned her head slowly, looking over their shoulder because looking straightforward was too frightening a concept for her still. But then there was the familiar burn of orange hair that looked so much like her own, and tearstained cheeks that also matched her own; and Lark turned full around, taking a hesitant yet delighted intake of breath as Robin appeared in the doorway.

“You just don’t give up, do you?” Robin asked, one shaking hand gripping the doorknob and the other gripping Alex’s hand as it rested supportively on their shoulder.

Lark gave a single laugh, choking back tears. “I guess it must run in the family, huh?” she reached up and wiped under her eyelashes, not wanting her mascara to run.

Robin’s face lifted a little at the sight of their sister trying to protect her make-up, and felt the corners of their mouth tugging into a tentative smile. “Lark?” 

“Yeah?” Lark looked up, bringing her hand away from her face.

Robin looked to Alex and gave their hand another squeeze before stepping forward on their own.

“I think I’ll take that hug now,” Robin said, opening up their arms with an anxious shrug.

Lark laughed again, she laughed so hard that tears came to her eyes. And then she was sobbing. She was sobbing and laughing at the same time in such close conjunction with each other that no one could really tell what sound belonged to which action. But Lark stepped forward with her arms open anyways, wrapping Robin up tightly to her chest and stroking their long hair.

“I’m so sorry, Robin,” Lark stuttered out, just crying now. Her mascara was running in black streaks down her face, but she’d ceased caring about that. “I am so so sorry for everything.”

“It’s okay, Lark,” Robin said into their sister’s shoulder, grateful for the cover so no one else could see them crying too. “It’s not your fault.”

“I’m your big sister, it’s my job to take responsibility for you,” Lark held Robin tightly and rocked them from side to side as she threw her head back and looked to the ceiling.

“God, Rob, she sounds like you,” Alex laughed, moving forward and clapping Robin on the back.

Robin jerked their head up and swiveled around, keeping one arm around Lark’s waist. “I don’t talk like that!”

“You kinda do,” Alex said.

“Do not!” Robin shot back, cheeks growing red.

“Do too!” a chorus of voices sounded from below.

Robin turned back around and, placing their hands on Lark’s shoulders, looked over the bannister to see their five younger siblings gathered below. Finch stood towards the edge of the gathering of kids now, eavesdropping with the rest of them.

“I see you’re fitting in quite well down there, Finch!” Robin called, smiling down at him.

“Mm, yes, I feel I’ve really found my people,” Finch nodded, giving Hop an absentminded pat on the head. Looking back up to Robin, Finch gave them a hesitant but hopeful grin. “Hey, uh, you mind if I get in on some of that hug action I saw Lark getting?”

Robin laughed once then, looking around at the part of the downstairs they could see, their face fell. “Is...Uhm...Is Wren still there?”

Toriel waved a hand from where she stood against the wall. “Do not worry about him, Robin dear. We-”

“Yeah, don’t worry about him, _Robbie_ ,” Bell interrupted, throwing an arm around Twain and giving an ‘okay’ symbol with their fingers. “We took care of that asshole for ya!”

Robin laughed again, fuller this time, and moved away from Lark. Heading down the stairs, Robin shook a finger at Bell and gave them a warning look. “Don’t get used to calling me ‘Robbie,’” they said, turning to Finch with a smile as he stepped up to meet them halfway. “Only my big brother’s allowed to call me that.”

Finch laughed, picking Robin up in a big hug and twirling them around. When he set Robin down in the center of the main hall, Finch had tears welling in his eyes. Pulling them into a tight hug again, Finch squeezed Robin so tightly they thought all the air would go out of their lungs.

“Wren’s an idiot,” Finch whispered into Robin’s ear, voice low enough that only they could hear. “No matter where you live, you’re still my little sibling, alright?”

“Alright,” Robin nodded, pulling back with tears in their eyes.

“Robin!” a voice rang out, and before Robin could lift their head to look, Hop’s shorter frame was colliding with theirs and hugging them tightly along with Finch. Burying their face in the front of Robin’s shirt, Hop took a shuddering breath and tightened their hug; Finch stepped back, letting the two of them have their moment. “Your brother Wren is an idiot,” Hop said, pulling their head back so their voice was loud enough for everyone to hear them. “Caring about monsters is why you’re alive right now. You’re a hero and he can shut up.”

“Thanks, Hop,” Robin smiled, kneeling down so they could wrap their sibling in a proper hug. Looking to the rest of their gathered siblings and the anticipation on their faces, Robin lifted up a hand and waved them forward.

The effect was instantaneous. As soon as Robin had motioned for them, all five of their younger siblings came rushing up around them. Alex, who had still been halfway upstairs, grabbed Lark on their way down and then waved Finch over, bringing Robin’s older siblings into the mix as well.

“Is this a common occurrence in this house?” Finch asked as he was immediately brought into the hug by several pairs of tiny hands.

“But of course,” Toriel laughed, throwing her arms wide so she could hug as many of her children at once as possible.

“I could get used to it,” Lark shrugged.

“If you’re gonna be a part of this family, you’d better,” Bell said, reaching out and ruffling Alex’s hair. “Dude, your hair’s like a freakin’ lion’s mane.”

“You think I should cut it?” Alex asked, pushing their unruly locks out of their eyes.

“Uhm, yes,” Bell nodded, giving Alex’s hair another tug before retracting their hand.

“Well, that’s too damn bad,” Alex said. “You’ll have to hold me down and cut it off yourself.”

“Gotta sleep sometime,” Bell shrugged.

“Rob, do you hear this?” Alex called for Robin’s attention. “I’m being threatened.”

“You’ll live,” Robin said, picking up Frisk so they wouldn’t drown in the sea of people taller than them. “Besides, I’m with Bell on this one. You need to do something about your hair.”

“Hah!” Bell laughed.

After that, the conversation dissolved from coherent sentences spoken separately to cacophony of voices each clamoring to be heard over the others. It was chaos, but it was comfortable. To Robin, that sound had always held safety for them; an audible form of the care a group of people had for each other that they wanted nothing more than to be a part of the conversation. And even as the group hug separated and the mood settled down, Robin found they still felt that sense of comfort and safety that they only ever really felt when they were at home with their family.

Later, when Lark and Finch were finally ready to leave, Robin wrapped both of them in their arms; pulling them into a smaller group hug than before, but one that was no less full of love.

“So,” Lark said as the three of them all pulled away from each other. “I’ll call you tomorrow, yeah? Promise you’ll pick up?”

Robin let go of a deep breath and nodded. “I think I can manage that.”

“Great,” Lark smiled, stepping towards the door and setting her hand on the knob. “I love you, Robin.”

“Love you, too,” Robin smiled.

“Bye!” Lark waved over her shoulder at the younger children, who all waved and called goodbyes to her as well. Tapping Finch on the arm, Lark opened the door and put one foot outside. “I’m gonna go start up the car. Let’s go before it gets too late..”

“Okay,” Finch gave a thumbs-up as Lark walked out to the driveway. Turning back to Robin, he gave a low whistle and shook his head. “She can be so bossy, huh?”

“Heard that!” Lark’s voice called from outside. Finch burst out laughing, and Robin did too.

Reaching out, Finch pulled Robin into one last tight hug before heading for the doorway as well. “I’ll see ya around, Robbie.”

“See ya around, Finch,” Robin smiled, waving as their brother headed outside to where Lark was waiting in her car.

Robin waved at their older siblings as Lark pulled out of the driveway and drove down the road, craning their neck to watch them go.

“Dang, Rob, shut the door already,” Alex said, coming up next to their older sibling and bumping their shoulder. “I mean, it’s not like you’re never gonna see ‘em again.”

“Very true,” Robin nodded, still staring out at the darkened streets. “Hey, I don’t know if I told you this but, uh, thanks. Thanks for being there for me through all of this and giving me your honest opinions and all that. I really appreciate it.”

Alex smiled, throwing an arm around Robin’s shoulders and rubbing their arm. “What’s family for?”

Robin gave a short laugh through their nose. “Thanks just the same,” they said, shutting the front door at last and turning back inside to where the rest of their family was waiting for them.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay I just need to put an end note here to say that I'm super appreciative of the few fans of this series I do have. This is a very, very personal fic series for me and I write it mainly for myself, it doesn't matter to me if it's super popular. But the few fans I do have who read this series are always so kind and I'm just glad that these characters mean something to someone. Alright, sap train leaving the station now! Thanks for reading!


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